Arsenic & New Kevlar
by AmyD and Suisan
Summary: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, scantily clad and sweaty FBI Agents … we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Warnings**: Suisan doesn't DO warnings. Seriously. Amy doesn't DO character death. Seriously.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic and New Kevlar**

A Numb3rs story

By

Amy D. & Suisan

* * *

_Okay, that's the last time I let David pick where we eat lunch. _F.B.I. Special Agent Colby Granger thought. _Who would think that hot dogs would make you sick?_

He eased himself down into his office chair and started rummaging through his desk looking for the Pepto Bismol he knew was there. Truth be told, it wasn't the hot dogs that had made him queasy, his stomach had been bothering him for the better part of a week. He kept telling himself that he would go see his doctor when he had a chance. That chance just hadn't come up yet. His fingers closed on the bottle of Pepto and he shook out a couple of tablets, washing them down with the remains of his coffee. He needed his stomach to settle, he didn't have the time to get sick.

The Pepto appeared to work, allowing Colby to return to the mountain of paperwork waiting for him, however appearances could be so deceiving. A few minutes later, he was making a mad dash for the Men's Room.

* * *

"Megan, where'd Colby go?" Agent Don Eppes, Colby's team leader, asked his second-in-command. It was close to two o'clock and he hadn't seen Colby in the last couple of hours, which was strange. Unless he was working on leads, which he wasn't at the moment, Colby was usually at his desk, trying to keep up with the overwhelming mountains of paperwork.

Megan Reeves looked up from the report she was reading and cast a glance at Colby's empty desk. When she didn't see him there, she frowned and stood up. "David?" she called to the fourth member of Don's team, David Sinclair. "Have you seen Colby recently?"

David thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "Not in the last 10 minutes."

Before Don could say anything further, Colby appeared, coming from the direction of the Men's Room. "You okay?" He asked, startled by the greenish tinge to Colby's normally healthy complexion.

Colby nodded, "Yeah. It's just that something's been bugging my stomach lately. I haven't figured out what yet." He sat down, and then looked up at Don. "I'll be fine."

Don took in Colby's pale face and dulled gaze and said "Whatever. Go home. Before you give whatever you have to the rest of us."

"You sure?" Colby asked.

"Absolutely. I'd rather have you go home and miss a couple of days, then stay here and infect everyone." Don told him.

Both Megan and David nodded in agreement.

"All right, you don't have to tell me twice." Colby said, with a small smile.

"Can you drive home?" Megan asked. "You know one of us would be happy to drive you."

Colby shook his head. "Thanks for the offer but I'm not that bad off yet." He stood, took his jacket off the back of the chair and headed to the elevator.

"Call and give me an update tomorrow." Don called after him.

Colby waved a hand in his direction to show he heard.

"If I don't hear from him by 7 tomorrow morning, I'm going to his apartment and kicking his door in." Don said, to no one in particular, pushing his concern down deep inside.

* * *

Colby stopped at Von's Supermarket on the way home and picked up some soup, crackers and 7UP. He hoped what had worked on him as a kid, would work now. He also bought a second bottle of Pepto Bismol just in case.

He made it all the way home and up to the mailboxes of his apartment complex before his stomach started up again. He stopped at the mailboxes, shifted his groceries from his right to his left hand, loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. Automatically, he checked his mailbox, dropping the mail into the grocery bag. He'd look at it later.

He turned away from the mailboxes and very nearly collided with a neighbor of his, Hattie MacPherson. In her late 50's, Hattie came almost up to Colby's shoulder. A slender woman, her hazel eyes, framed by her ginger colored hair, radiated worry.

"Colby. You're home early." She said. "What's wrong? You don't look at all well."

He flashed her a quick smile and said, "It's just something I ate." He kinda knew Hattie, kinda not. He had done a bunch of odd jobs around her apartment when she had needed the help and she had returned the favor by cooking him dinner. But that was as far as the relationship went. She was harmless and he got a home cooked meal a couple of times a month.

"You're sure? I can bring you something, if you don't feel up to cooking."

He didn't want to be rude but he just wanted to be left alone. Still, he looked down at Hattie and said, "That would be nice. Could you come by a couple of hours from now?"

She beamed. "Of course. That'll give me plenty of time to whip something up."

"Great, just knock on the door." He grimaced slightly and walked away, headed for the stairs.

* * *

The timid knock on his front door woke Colby from the fitful nap he'd managed to get. He yawned, looked at the door and remembered.

"Come in." He called out.

Hattie walked in, her hands wrapped around a medium sized covered dish. "Colby? I hope you like this..." She closed the door and her hazel eyes unerringly found him on the couch. "Oh, dear! You actually look worse... and that wasn't very tactful of me."

Colby laughed. "Well, the truth hurts."

"Hurts? You're hurting?" Hattie asked as she placed the dish on the kitchen counter separating the kitchen proper from the living area.

He shook his head. "It's a phrase. I'll be fine." He swung his feet off the couch, stood up and joined her in the kitchen. "What did you bring me?"

"Oh, and here I thought you were talking about actual physical pain." She gestured to the dish she'd brought over. "Now, there should be enough to feed a growing boy like you, it's my personal version of an old classic. Chicken Noodle soup with real egg noodles and not that damn 'whole grain' crap that's about all you can find nowadays."

"Thank you, Hattie." He took the lid off the dish and inhaled. "It smells wonderful."

"It's no problem, I haven't had much call to make food like I used to ... and I do like cooking for healthy appetites. Even when they're not feeling well."

"I'll make sure it doesn't go to waste."

"You do that." She fussed with her hands for a few moments before shoving them into the pockets of her apron. "Colby... is there anything you would like to have tomorrow? Just in case you're still not feeling well ... maybe something you used to get as a kid? I probably won't make it like your mother did, but I'd like to try?"

Colby looked at Hattie, a little surprised, then it occurred to him... Hattie was a widow who was just looking for someone to mother. "Hattie, you don't have to do that. I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow."

"I don't mind, Colby. Besides, I have yet to pay you back for helping me with those damn easy-to-put-together shelves that you helped me with last month."

"You're sure? I don't want you going up and down the stairs unless you have to."

"You're worried about me when you're not feeling well? Oh, your mother did raise you right. I'll be fine, Colby. The stairs aren't that much of a bother and it's actually good for me to get out and about more often."

Colby grinned. "Let me think about it. It's very kind of you to offer."

"You do that." She dug around in her pockets for a second, then came up with a card in her right hand and handed it to him. "Here's my phone number. If you need me to cook again or help you out in any other way, call me. I'm usually up by 7 A.M. and don't get to sleep much before midnight. You call me. Day or night if you need help. All right?"

He nodded. "Yes ma'am. I promise."

"Good. Now go eat and then get some rest ... and not on that couch." She opened the door to the apartment and stepped outside.

He smiled. "Yes, ma'am." He repeated himself.

When the door closed behind her, Colby could swear that she'd left behind the slight odor of carnations and roses. He went back into the tiny kitchen, grabbed a large mug and poured some of Harriet MacPherson's Chicken Noodle soup. He then sat down in front of the TV to eat and watch the news.

He'd just barely managed to finish off the broth when his stomach roiled and he made a beeline for the bathroom. After a few minutes spent in sheer misery, Colby crawled into bed and prayed he really would feel better in the morning.

* * *

Colby's cell phone rang three times before he woke up and answered it. It usually only took one ring.

"Granger..."

_"CeeJay?"_

Colby blinked a couple of times and waited for his brain to start working. "Dad?"

_"Yeah, son, it's Dad. You get so wrapped up in a case or something that you forgot to make your weekly call to the old man?"_ Gareth Granger said.

_Weekly call?_ The light bulb went on and Colby groaned. He called his dad every week just to shoot the breeze with him. He blinked again and looked for a clock. What time was it?

"Sorry, Dad. I'm not on top of my game right now." Colby said, hoping he didn't sound as bad as he felt.

_"You do sound like shit. What's up?"_

"Think it was something I ate."

_"Just something you ate, not that damn flu virus that's making the rounds?"_

"Not quite sure. Don had me go home early today."

_"Don? That's your boss, right? Man probably didn't want you infecting everyone else."_

Colby laughed, or tried to. "You sound like him."

_"And you really sound like crap, Colby James. You got a personal doc down there yet?"_

"Yes, sir."

_"Good. You get your butt down to see him first thing in the morning then. Don't take any chances. You know that if you've got the flu you need to be on antibiotics to stave off the secondary infections."_

"Yes, sir." He grimaced and rolled on his side, his stomach cramping up on him at the wrong moment.

_"Colby? CeeJay? You all right?"_ Gareth Granger's voice was full of concern.

"I'll be fine, Dad. Really." Colby said. If only he could convince himself of that statement. He swallowed and prayed.

_"Right, I hear the non-verbal there... 'Dad, leave me alone, I'm a grown man'."_

"The hearing's improving." Colby said, fighting off the pain as best he could.

_"I am entitled to worry about my youngest ... no matter how damn old he manages to get."_

"Yes, sir." Colby appreciated his father's concern, he did, he just didn't think it would do any good to worry him unnecessarily.

_"You do realize your mother was hoping to talk to you, right?"_

Colby groaned. "Mom'll have a fit if she hears me like this."

Gareth laughed. _"I heard that. Don't worry, she went to bed after I told her I would call you. You want me to tell her you're fighting off the flu?"_

"Yeah, that'll..." Colby swallowed and prayed some more. "That'll work."

_"I'll do you one better, CeeJay. I'll tell her you'll call the minute you're back to your normal self. That you got caught up on a case and I barely caught you in between runs home to change clothes."_

Colby smiled. Leave it to his father to make up something so his mother wouldn't worry. "Think she'll buy it?" he asked.

_"She'll buy it. After all, she knows I wouldn't lie to her if I thought you were really sick."_

"Okay."

_"By the way, I might be down your way later this week or early next week at the latest. Sheriff Leon Leland told me about a prisoner at Los Angeles County who's wanted on warrants out of my department and his that will need picking up."_

"Cool. I'll show you around...around town." Colby said. It would be nice to see his dad, if only for a short time.

Gareth laughed again. _"Not for long. If I do decide to do the pick up run, it'll pretty much be in one night and gone the following morning. Unless the sonovabitch decides at the last minute to fight extradition on the aggravated burglary charges."_

Colby's stomach cramped up again, dragging a groan from him. He hoped his father hadn't heard it.

_"Right... I'll let you go. Get some sleep and don't forget to see your doctor if you're not better by tomorrow, CeeJay."_

"Yes, sir."

_"Night, CeeJay. Take care of yourself. Remember, you and Cody are your mother's only hope for grandbabies!"_ Gareth Granger hung up before Colby could respond to that obvious taunt.

Colby smiled and dropped the phone on the bedside table. He climbed to his feet and managed to make to the bathroom before he emptied his stomach yet again. He leaned back against the bathroom wall and waited for the nausea to pass.

**

* * *

**

**Day Two**

Sunrise came at 6:17 the next morning but Colby had been awake long before the sun peaked over the horizon. He had slept off and on all night, his stomach trying to turn itself inside out. At least, he hadn't thrown up any more, not there was anything left in his stomach _to_ throw up. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, the sun creeping across the floor, trying to convince himself that he had to get up and get something to eat. It took some time but he finally, finally, talked himself into getting up.

Slowly, he levered himself upright, then slid his legs over the edge of the bed and settled them on the floor. _So far so good._ Before he could think further on it, he stood and slowly made his way to the kitchen. No protest from his stomach yet. The remains of Hattie's chicken noodle soup was exactly where he had left it the night before. His stomach turned over at the sight of it.

He swallowed, picked up the dish and stuck it in the refrigerator. That chore done, he simply stood there, trying to figure out what to do next.

_Food. Get something to eat._ A little voice inside his head said, reminding him of his original reason for coming into the kitchen in the first place. He surprised himself by having the energy to fix a bowl soup, from a can, and get some 7UP to drink.

_Probably is the stomach flu._ He thought, after finishing the bowl and not having to hurl. He left the bowl in the sink, took his glass and went back into the bedroom. He eased himself down and again, was happy that he didn't have to run for the toilet. He took a sip of 7UP, set the glass down and doubled over in pain.

_What the fuck?_ He took a deep breath, then another one and the pain slowly subsided. He lay down on the bed and concentrated on his breathing. His eyes swept over the bedside clock. It read 7:28 A.M. Well, he wasn't going into work today, that much was apparent. He could hardly sit up. He reached out a hand and felt around on the nightstand until his hand came in contact with his cell phone. He dialed the number from memory and waited for the connection to go through.

_"Eppes."_ Don answered on the second ring.

"Don, it's Colby." _Lord, I hope I don't sound as bad as I feel_.

_"Colby, hi. How are you feeling?_" Don asked.

"Not too hot. I think I'm gonna stay home today." Colby replied, gritting his teeth as a wave of nausea swept over him.

_"Okay. You are going to see a doctor, right?"_

"You sound like my dad." Colby replied.

Don laughed. _"I'll take that as a compliment. What the…."_ His voice trailed off.

"Don, I think I'll be back in tomorrow." Colby said, speaking up just a little louder to get his boss's attention once more; the man seemed distracted.

_"So you think you'll be back when?"_ Don asked after a moment's silence.

"Hopefully, tomorrow." The last word came out almost as grunt as Colby fought off a stomach cramp.

_"All right. Can we get you anything? You know we wouldn't have a problem stopping at the grocery store and picking something up."_

"Nah. I got a neighbor downstairs who's offered to cook for me but thanks anyway."

_"Leave it to you to find a woman to cook for you."_ Don teased him.

"Well, ya know…" Colby replied.

_"Yeah, I do, with you anyway."_ Don said, sounding more distracted and a little disgusted at the same time. _"I gotta go. You wouldn't believe what's going on here. Remember, if you need anything, anything at all, call. I don't care what time it is. Understand?"_

Colby swallowed then said, "Yeah, I understand."

_"All right. I'll talk with you later. Bye."_

"Bye." Colby flipped the phone closed and dropped it back on the nightstand. That chore taken care of, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

* * *

Colby dozed off and on all morning. In between, he managed to get something down without throwing it up. It was only 7UP but at least it was something. He was even feeling the slightest bit better and was beginning to hold out some hope of going back to work the next day. Now, if he could just get his stomach to settle, he would be fine.

"Colby dear, you up and about?" Hattie's voice drifting through the door was just loud enough to finish doing that her too soft knocking didn't, waking him up from a fitful nap.

Colby awoke with a start and looked toward the source of the noise. _What the...?_

Soft tapping on the door rattled through the apartment again.

_Aw, crap, bet that's Hattie._ Colby thought. He managed to get himself up right and stumbled toward the door. _Okay, so maybe going to work tomorrow is a little much. _

He opened the door and leaned on the frame. "Hi, Hattie."

"I woke you, didn't I? I thought I waited long enough so that you'd be up." She peered up into his face. "And you look like you really needed the sleep too. I'm such a bother..."

He smiled at her. "It's okay. You need something?"

"Just checking on you, Colby Dear. I knew you hadn't gone into work and wanted to see if you needed anything this evening?"

His stomach muttered at him and he tried not to make a face. "I'll think about it. I'm not too hungry right now."

"Tummy still acting up?"

He nodded. "It's got to be that stomach bug going around."

"You can't be too careful with that bug ... you have enough clear liquids so you don't get dehydrated?" She asked. The more she talked, the more she sounded like a worried mother.

"Yes, ma'am." Colby said. He leaned more heavily against the doorframe. If Hattie didn't hurry up, she was going to be looking down at him, not up.

"All right, I'm going to be honest with you, Colby."

He quirked an eyebrow. "About what Hattie?"

"I'm planning on making a large batch of home-made macaroni and cheese, and while I'll be freezing some for later in the month, I will make far too much for just little ol' me." She grinned slyly up at him, "So you want part of the batch this evening while it's fresh from the oven?"

Now, that actually sounded good. Colby hadn't had Mac N' Cheese in forever and he had loved it as a kid. "Sure. Just knock and thank you."

"No need to thank me, Colby. I should be the one thanking you! Before you moved in, very few of my neighbors would help me out when I made too large batches of anything. You, however, seem to appreciate home cooking. I did notice that you polished off the plate of brownies I made last week."

A slow smile crept across his face. "Shouldn't waste food. It's a sin."

She let out a delightful laugh. "Growing boys ... hell, just men with active stomachs ... you are the reason so many of us women like to bake and cook." She patted him lightly on the arm and stepped back from the door. "Now, you go back in there and rest up. I should have a serving or two of the Mac N' Cheese ready and here no later than 7:30." Hattie turned on elevated walkway and walked with a spring in her step to the stairwell. Clearly she was looking forward to cooking for him and he was just happy to let her.

He shut the door and made it as far as the couch before he flat ran out of energy. Whatever it was he had, he hoped it would be over with by tomorrow. He hated feeling this way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, scantily clad and sweaty FBI Agents … we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, or so everyone thought, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 2**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

The early evening darkness was slipping across the apartment complex when there was a knock on Colby's apartment door. With a groan, he dragged himself to his feet and answered it.

Hattie was standing there, another medium-sized dish in her oven-gloved hands. "Oh dear! You don't look at all well, Colby." She stepped into the apartment, placed the dish on the kitchen counter and came back over to where Colby was still standing by the doorway.

"Come on, you really shouldn't be up just yet. Let's get you back on the couch for now." She helped him settle on the couch.

He attempted a smile for her. "I've felt better." Which was true but he could honestly say, he had never felt as bad as he did right then

"It's always the stronger among us who fall the hardest when they get sick. It's like the viruses have to work extra hard to get to you." She disappeared into his bedroom and came back out with the light blanket he usually kept on the foot of the bed, draped it over his legs and tucked him in. "When was the last time you ate or drank anything?"

He blinked and tried to remember. "I had some water around 3?"

"Did it stay down?" Hattie asked. She walked off to the kitchen, where he heard her start gathering up his dirty dishes and filling the sink to wash them up.

"Mostly." He closed his eyes and listened to the noises Hattie was making. It was comforting. It was almost like being at home. In fact, he kept expecting to hear his mother call him for dinner at any moment.

"Let me get this mess cleaned up, no - don't protest, I don't mind helping you." She dried her hands as she reached up and grabbed a new glass from where he kept them on a shelf over the sink. She opened the fridge, filled the glass with 7UP and brought it out to him. "Now, you sit there and just sip that. Not too much or too fast. You're probably dehydrated and need the fluids."

"Yes, ma'am." He did as he was told. The soda felt good going down. Now, the challenge was for it to stay down.

Hattie left him to sip the soda in peace while she cleaned up the kitchen. He shut his eyes and sipped. The odor of the orange-based cleaner he used wafted through the air. He opened his eyes when he heard her messing around in the tiny laundry room.

"Hattie? What are you doing?"

She came bustling out, her arms loaded with the navy blue top sheet he'd had on his bed. "Oh! You were sleeping so well too. I hope I didn't wake you filling the washer."

He shook his head. "Just wondering." He closed his eyes again.

"I was straightening your bed up, so you could just climb in later, and realized you'd been sweating a lot ... so I thought I'd change the bedding for you. Nothing feels better when you're ill than a freshly made bed." She disappeared into the laundry area again, and a few minutes later, came out through his bedroom door. "There. It's all ready for you whenever you're ready to sleep." A warm dry hand brushed against his forehead. "You're still too warm ... did the soda settle okay?"

He nodded. He was lucky to have Hattie willing to come up and help out.

"Do you think you'd like to try something a little more solid than soup?"

"No, thanks." Just the thought of solid food made him nauseous

"Then how about a little more soda? I don't like the look you have, like you've been in the heat all day without water."

"Okay."

She bustled into the kitchen, his empty glass in her hand, then came back out a minute later with a fresh glass, this time with one ice cube floating it in. "Looks like the soda's all gone now. The corner store is just a five minute walk away ... I'll be back. I'm going to go get you some more. Don't lock your door, dear. I'll be back in a jiff."

And she was gone before he could protest.

He woke to the sound of rustling bags and saw Hattie come bustling through the door with two shopping bags. Determined to help, he threw off the blanket and climbed to his feet. It took a moment for him to get his bearings but once he did, he followed Hattie into the kitchen to show her where to put the groceries.

"You look a little better. More color in your cheeks. I got you a bottle of Ginger Ale, that helps settle tummies better than 7UP, and a couple of tins of clear broth - mostly chicken." She found the trashcan where he kept it under the sink and tossed the bags in. "Do you think you're ready to try something to eat now?"

_What the hell?_ He thought. _I gotta eat something. _He nodded his head.

"Right, let's refill that empty glass with some of this Ginger Ale, and I'll grab a bowl to warm the Mac N' Cheese up in." She moved past him to grab his glass from the living area, came back, filled it and placed in front of him on the counter before grabbing a dish out of the drying rack and put a small helping of the casserole in it.

She put the dish in the microwave while he moved down to where there was a barstool he could sit on. In a minute, she was placing the food in front of him and handed him a fork.

He stared at the food, almost as if he expected it to climb out of the bowl. His stomach turned over at the sight of the Mac N' Cheese but, praying it would stay down, put a forkful of the Mac N' Cheese in his mouth and swallowed. When it didn't come right back up, he tried another forkful.

All the while, Hattie was smiling as she helped herself to a glass of water.

After the third forkful, Colby decided that he had pushed his luck far enough and laid the fork down. "Thank you, Hattie but I think that's about all I can handle right now."

"At least you ate something. I can go home now knowing you're taken care of for the evening." She put the lid back on the casserole dish and placed the whole thing in the microwave. "That should keep just fine if you decide you want more. I'll be back in the morning to finish up on your laundry. You get your butt back into bed and sleep." Hattie leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. "You need to get better, Colby. Who else could I call on to help me with my little chores?"

"You'd find somebody, I'm sure."

"No body like you, Dear." She gave him a light squeeze on the shoulder as she gathered up her over mitts and left the apartment. Once again, the only sign that she'd been there was the slight odor of carnations and roses on the air.

He staggered off to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. He didn't even bother to crawl under the sheets.

* * *

**Day Three**

Sleep came fitfully to Colby. He would drift off for a couple of hours, only to be awaken by his stomach. It dragged him awake at 2 A.M. forcing him into the bathroom yet again, emptying his stomach of a second helping of Mac N' Cheese.

_Okay, shouldn't have had that second helping. _He thought, rocking back on his heels. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared up at the ceiling. _The first helping stayed down, why not the second?_

He flushed the toilet, lurched to his feet and got a drink of water from the sink. _Man, I hope whatever this is runs its course soon. _He stumbled back into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

His stomach kicked him awake two and a half-hours later with such serious pain that he began wishing he were dead. He struggled through it but it was hard and getting harder. When the pain subsided, his mind cleared enough for him to pick up his cell phone and give Don an update. Like the day before, he dialed the number from memory and waited.

_"Eppes."_ A sleepy voice greeted Colby's ear.

"Don? It's Colby." He gritted his teeth, waiting for the wave of pain to wash through him.

_"Colby? What's going on?"_ Don asked. The change in his voice and a fast glance at a clock told Colby that he had just woken his boss up at 4:30 in the morning.

"Nothing, really. But this stomach bug is really kicking my butt. I'm not gonna make it in today." Colby said, trying to sound as positive as possible.

_"Okay. Are you sure you don't need anything?"_ Don asked. _"I can be there in twenty minutes."_

"No, really, I don't need anything. I just wanted you to know." Colby replied, a spasm gripped his frame, robbing him of his ability to breathe for a moment.

_"All right. Now, listen, I want you to call me tomorrow no matter what, whether you're coming in tomorrow or not. I don't care what time it is. Just call, understand?"_ Don had never sounded so worried to Colby's ears before, but he didn't want the man losing any more sleep than he already had.

"Yes, sir." Colby swallowed. "You'll hear from me, I promise. I think I'm going through the worst right now. You'll see me tomorrow, I'm sure." He ended the conversation, dropped the phone on the nightstand and fell back to sleep.

* * *

Aside from the conversation with Don, the rest of the day passed by in blur for Colby. He saw Hattie flit in and out and, at one point, could have sworn he heard her say 'This should have happened much sooner.' But why would she say that? And how, exactly was she getting in, he didn't remember giving her a key. No matter. He was happy to see her however she got in.

She got him to drink something and tried to get him to eat something. She cleaned up after him if he didn't quite make it to the bathroom. She was a godsend.

As the day passed, his stomach seemed to have settled which seemed to allow him to sleep longer and longer which had to be a positive sign right?

Day slipped into night but Colby neither knew or cared.

* * *

**Day Four**

No phone call jolted Don awake the next morning. _Colby must've been right. It must've been the stomach flu after all and if that's the case, I'd better see him this morning. _

He arrived at work just before 8 A.M. Assistant Director of Agents Wright had a whole list of things for Don to do for the follow up from Rep. Hoffman's visit and he was knee-deep in report writing by the time Don and Megan came in half-an-hour later. He waved them over, telling them "If Colby doesn't show by nine, I want both of you to get over there and see what's going on. I've tried a couple of times to raise him this morning but no luck so far."

They both nodded. When nine o'clock came and went and still no Colby, Megan and David disappeared out the door. Don watched them go, dialing Colby's cell phone as he did. _C'mon, man, just answer the phone, that's all I want._

* * *

Ringing. Something was ringing and it was close by too. Colby cracked open one eye to search for the noise but quit after a few seconds. It was too much of a bother.

_Hattie'll answer it. _He thought before sinking back into sleep.

* * *

Megan made the trip from the F.B.I. building to Colby's apartment in record time. It was truly amazing how quickly the traffic scattered when a siren and flashing lights were seen.

"You know, Colby's gonna be hacked when we show up and nothing's wrong outside of a dead cell battery." David said, climbing from the Suburban.

"Serves him right then." Megan replied, slamming her door shut. "He managed to call the other two days but not today? Besides, Don's also been trying to call him on his landline with the same result. Which apartment is his?" she asked.

David pointed at the third building on the left. "He's on the second floor, number 245."

"If he doesn't answer after the first couple of knocks, I'm getting the key from the manager." Megan told David when they arrived at Colby's apartment.

David nodded and knocked on the door. "Colby? You up?"

No answer.

David frowned and knocked again, harder this time. "Colby! Come on, man! It's David!"

* * *

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _The noise made Colby open his eyes for a moment. First ringing, now banging. _What was next? No matter. Hattie will answer it._ He closed his eyes.

* * *

Megan peered in the window. "I don't see anyone, David. Maybe he did go to the doctor."

David looked at her. They'd both seen Granger's Department issued sedan in the parking area when they'd pulled up. Something was wrong and he was not about to leave until he found out what.

"I'm going to get the key." Megan said but before she could take more than a few steps, her cell phone trilled and stopped her. She looked at David before answering. "Reeves."

"Megan, it's Don. I haven't gotten Colby yet. You at his apartment?"

"Standing smack in front of it. You want us to go in?" Megan asked.

"Yeah, do it." Don hesitated only a moment. If Colby wanted to be pissed, then so be it. Better pissed than dead.

"Megan, his door's not locked." David called to her.

"I'll call you back." She hung up on Don. There was no good reason for Colby's door to be unlocked. She slipped her gun from its holster and watched David do the same. She nodded and he pushed the door open. She went first, he followed.

At first glance, everything seemed normal. The living room and kitchen were neat and clean with only the slightest hint of carnations in the air but they had only seen the front half of the apartment. The closer they got to the back half of the apartment, the more apparent it become that something was horribly wrong; smell being the biggest indicator. It wafted from the bedroom and stopped David dead in his tracks.

"Breathe through your mouth." Megan told him. "Where's a light switch?"

David found a switch and flipped on the lights, half wishing he hadn't.

Colby lay sprawled on his back on the bed. The navy blue sheets crumpled and tossed aside. Glasses littered the bedside table and the smell of vomit hung in the air.

"Colby!" David holstered his gun and knelt down by the bed. He grabbed Colby's arm, shaking him gently. "Colby? Wake up. Come on, open your eyes. Look at me. It's David."

Colby's left hand grabbed David's arm and his eyelids fluttered open. David's joy, however, was short lived. Colby's gaze was unfocused and glassy. He looked straight through David. "Dad?" He mumbled. "I don't feel so good." His grip slackened and his eyelids slid shut.

"Megan? Call 9-1-1. He just called me '_Dad_'."

"Already did." Megan replied. "My God, what the Hell happened?" She crouched down next to David, checking Colby's vital signs. "We got here in time. Just keep repeating that to yourself. The ambulance will be here at any moment."

"Excuse me!" A new voice reached their ears. "Who are you and what have you done to Colby?"

Both agents looked toward the open bedroom door and saw the living embodiment of Miss Marple standing there and she did not look happy. She stalked into the room, a scowl on her face. David stood, his hand automatically reaching for his weapon. Megan stood up next to him. She put her hand on his arm and stepped forward.

"We're co-workers of Colby's." Megan told her, in her most calm voice. "I'm Agent Reeves, this is Agent Sinclair. We were concerned because we hadn't heard from Colby. So, we came by to see him. Who are you?"

"I'm Hattie MacPherson. I've been helping Colby out while he's sick." She eyed Megan distrustfully. "Do you have any I.D.?"

Megan nodded. She pulled her badge out and held it out for Hattie to inspect. David followed suit.

"Oh, dear." Hattie murmured, after looking at their badges. "Oh dear, oh dear." Her hands began to twist together.

"Hattie?" Megan asked, softly. "How long has Colby been like this?"

"It can't have been too long." Hattie said. "He was better last night."

"Tell me about last night." Megan requested as she managed to back Hattie up until she was back in the hallway. Until they learned just what exactly Hattie's relationship to Colby was, she wanted as much distance between the two as possible. For all they knew, Hattie could be, not was - just could be, the reason Colby looked so bad.

"I came up around 7:30," Hattie responded. "Just after Wheel of Fortune. I got him to drink something and I think he ate something too but I don't remember." Hattie's hands twisted together faster and faster. "He went right to sleep. I didn't think anything of it." She stopped talking and looked at the floor, her hands moving to cover her face. "I thought about calling an ambulance last night but I didn't! I didn't think he was that bad off!" She wailed, looking up at Megan, those active hands of hers reaching out to clasp Megan's arms. "You've got to believe me!"

Megan was torn between wanting to hug Hattie or arrest her. In the end, she did neither. "Where's your apartment?"

"I'm directly downstairs, number 145."

"I need you to go down to your apartment and stay there. Someone, probably Agent Sinclair or myself, will be back to talk to you. All right?"

Hattie nodded.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Megan asked. _I don't believe I'm doing this. Colby could be dying for all I know and here I am focusing on this old woman as if she was a potential suspect!_

Hattie's hands started to twist together again but no answer was forthcoming.

"Hattie?"

"No, no, I'll be all right. I'm not a child." Her response was a tiny bit peevish,

"All right then. One of us will be by later." Megan repeated her earlier statement. It was absolutely imperative to get Hattie into one place and have her stay there. Megan couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that she might be the key to understanding what, exactly, had happened to Granger.

Hattie nodded again and went out the apartment door in a very different demeanor than from when she came in earlier. Megan followed her out, watching to see where she went. "I'm going to guide the ambulance in." She called back to David.

"Got'cha." David called back. He looked down at Colby and gripped his arm. "Just hang on, Colby, help's on the way."

* * *

Megan was gone no longer than five minutes, maybe six but to David, it was an eternity. There was nothing he could do. He was totally and utterly helpless. All the training he'd had and he couldn't do a damn thing to help his partner, his friend.

_How long has he been like this? How long has he been lying here? _David closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to keep his mind focused but the image of Colby's glassy stare and nonsensical statement took hold and played over and over and over in his mind's personal cinema. His eyes popped open and he shook his head in an attempt to dispel the image. _What the hell kind of flu is this?_

"You're gonna be okay, Colby. You're gonna be fine." He said, holding on tight to Colby's arm, giving himself - and the stricken agent - something to cling to. "You're gonna be okay." Maybe if he said it enough times, it would become the truth.

"Right through the open door, Number 245. He's in the bedroom." Megan's voice reached David's ears and he was never happier than at that moment.

"What's his name?" A male voice asked, presumably it belonged to one of the paramedics.

"Colby Granger." Megan replied.

"Hang on, help's here." David told Colby.

Shortly, two paramedics came into view, a man and a woman, pushing a gurney. It occurred to David that they'd had to carry the gurney up the stairs and would have to carry it back down with Colby on it.

_Hell of a way to get a workout_.

Megan waved him out into the hallway, giving the paramedics room to work. "David? How are you doing?" she asked, concern coloring her words.

"How do you _think _I'm doing?" He said, not wanting to snap but failing miserably.

She nodded. "You're going with him." It was not a question.

"Yeah."

"I'll call Don and give him an update."

The paramedics rolled past with Colby strapped down on the gurney. "Either one of you riding with him?" The male paramedic asked.

"I am." David said.

The male paramedic nodded. David followed them and Megan followed David. She stopped just long enough to lock the apartment's door. Unless Colby had the flu, for some reason her mind was supplying doubt to that theory, his apartment was now a crime scene. The mental image those words conjured up sent a chill down her spine.

"Colby will be fine." She muttered to herself. "He will."

She turned from the door and caught up with David and the paramedics half way down the stairs. The stairs didn't go straight up but came to a landing then turned 180 degrees back on itself. Going up with an empty gurney had been interesting; coming back down with a 185-pound man strapped to it made maneuvering nearly impossible but it was neatly and quickly done.

David, as focused as he was on Colby, did not see the curtains in Number 145 flutter as they went past. Nor did he see Hattie's face peer out from behind them but Megan did. There was an odd mix of worry and curiosity on the older woman's face. Hattie would definitely need to be questioned further.

* * *

David hung on to the small bench seat, watching the paramedic work on Granger. He had to admire the man's ability to start an IV in the back of vehicle, which was weaving in and out of traffic, without having to stick the downed agent more than once.

His admiration only grew when a sudden stop made the paramedic lurch onto his feet but that was all. "Rebecca!" The medic bellowed.

"Sorry!" A response drifted back to him. "Some fewking minivan wouldn't ditch!"

"He's gonna be okay, right?" David asked.

The paramedic shrugged. "I hope so. You said he first complained of being ill three days ago?"

"Nearly four. Our boss sent him home early Monday. We've had an outbreak of the flu at the office and he didn't want to chance it spreading any further."

"Your friend isn't running a fever, which is typical of the current flu virus, but I could be wrong." The medic grabbed a radiophone and made a call. "Medic 5301, Gardena."

_//"Gardena, go ahead Medic 5301."//_

David blocked out the conversation as he concentrated on Colby. Even for a white guy, Granger looked pale; and he was so utterly still. He had never seen Granger so still. His biggest worry was that there was far more going on here than a simple viral infection like influenza. David was unable to shake the memory of the mini-outbreak of 1912 flu virus Charlie had assisted in vectoring for the CDC and FBI over two years ago. That strain had been deadly. If Granger had somehow been exposed to a strain like that...

David shook his head. _No negative thoughts. Granger's going to be fine once he gets proper medical care._

The ambulance driver caught off the siren, made a turn up and over some sort of speed bump and came to a stop. The back doors of the ambulance flew open and two nurses and a man in a white lab coat helped the paramedics unload the gurney Granger was lying on.

Jumping down to follow his partner into the emergency room, David tried to track the conversation between the medical personnel but it was all Latin to him. He could only watch in horror as convulsions began to rip through Granger, making his body buck on the gurney as he was wheeled into a treatment room. That was David's last image of Granger, for the doors closed and his way was blocked by one of nurses, who put a hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't go in there." She said.

"That's my partner in there." David said, staring down at the petite woman.

"I understand that, but you'll just be in the way and I know you want us to be able to do our best for your partner, right?" Her face lit up with an understanding smile of concern. David was not the first distraught cop she had had to deal with.

"Yeah." He showed her his badge and I.D., daring her to tell him to leave entirely. "I'll be over there, all right?"

She nodded.

He walked two paces away when an overhead alarm made him jump.

"**CODE BLUE – TRAUMA ONE ---- CODE BLUE – TRAUMA ONE!**"

David spun around and looked at the room number on the wall next to the door he'd seen Granger pushed through. 'Trauma One'

"Oh no! No, no, no! Granger, you'd better not die on me, you son of a bitch!" He collapsed against the nurse's station as a team if medical personnel ran by him into the trauma room. "You still owe me a six pack."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 3**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

**Day Four, Part Two**

Slumped against the nurse's station was exactly where Megan found David when she came into the E.R. a few minutes later. Instantly, she knew whatever had happened before she came in, hadn't been good. She had never seen that…particular shade of pale on David's face before. When she touched him on the arm, he jerked back from her and turned away but not before Megan caught a glimpse of his face. 'Haunted' was the only word she could use to describe it.

"Come on," she told him "we'll be out of the way over here." She pointed to a row of molded plastic chairs bolted to the floor, opposite the nurse's station. David slumped into a chair, his arms on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him.

Keeping one eye on David, Megan called Don. "Don? It's Megan… Yes, we found Colby… He was really sick, pretty much unconscious when we found him. We're at Gardena Medical Center… You might want to get over here." She looked down at David. "It doesn't look good."

* * *

"Damn it." Don swore when he hung up. What the HELL was going on? Colby was just supposed to have the flu, wasn't he?

He snatched up his suit jacket and was half way across the room when A.D.A. Wright called out to him.

"Eppes?!"

He spun around. "Sorry, sir. I gotta go." Don kept walking, backwards, toward the emergency stairwell, as it would be faster than the elevators. "One of my agents has been taken to the hospital and it doesn't look good." He was gone and flying down the stairs before A.D.A. Wright could say another word.

* * *

Time is relative as Albert Einstein had proven many decades ago; the more you wanted something, the slower time seemed to move and vice versa. That theory was in full effect in the ER waiting room at Gardena Medical Center because time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. People drifted in and out, a TV set overhead droned on and on about nothing in particular.

Megan took to pacing to pass the time, discovering that it took ten steps to cover the area between her seat and the ER's sliding door. David sat stone still, not moving a muscle, as he stared holes into the opposite wall.

_David is taking this far harder than I expected him to. _Megan thought. _We're going to have a big problem finding out what happened to Colby if he can't focus on the facts at hand. _

Presently, a man in a white lab coat, the same man David had seen upon arriving, came out of Trauma One, looked around the waiting area and came over to them. Tall and thin, he wore horn-rimmed glasses and looked like he was all of twelve.

"Are either of you here with Colby Granger?" he asked.

David's head snapped up at the sound of Colby's name. He nodded and stood. Megan nodded as well, watching, out of the corner of her eye, as a nurse came out of Trauma One carrying several vials of something in a bio-hazard bag.

"I'm Dr. James Ford, the ER doctor who's been working on Mr. Granger."

"It's Agent Granger." David corrected him. "He's an F.B.I. agent."

Dr. Ford's reddish-brown eyebrows quirked upward. "Of course, pardon me. Agent Granger is stabilized. We had to intubate him due to respiratory arrest upon his arrival but he's breathing on his own now."

David's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "You had to do that because of the flu?"

"Agent… I don't think your friend has the flu. I don't want to speculate until his lab work comes back but I'm pretty sure it's not influenza."

"Then what is it?" Megan asked, now as mystified as David.

"From the symptoms that were relayed to me and from his general appearance, I think Agent Granger may be suffering from some sort of toxin."

Megan's eyes widened to saucer size at the doctor's words. "Toxin? What kind of toxin?"

Dr. Ford looked at the half-empty waiting room, then motioned for Megan and David to follow him down the hallway to a smaller, more private waiting room.

"The term 'toxin' covers a wide range of possibilities. Certain food poisonings are toxic. So are some common household cleaners, which is why they work so well. There is also, of course, the toxins found in heavy metals, like mercury, lead and arsenic. It is my supposition that your friend has possibly been poisoned by arsenic."

"Arsenic? Like from Agatha Christie? Do people still use that?" David asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

Dr. Ford almost smiled. "Arsenic and Old Lace, one of her better stories, in my opinion. Yes, that kind of arsenic. Not only do people still use it, it is easily obtained in any number of household pest traps. Now, there is a remote possibility that Agent Granger was exposed to arsine gas but I seriously doubt it."

"It comes as a gas?" David asked.

Dr. Ford nodded. "Yes, but it's mostly used in heavy industrial processes and isn't easily obtainable by Joe Q. Public."

"Thank God for small favors." Megan muttered. "When will you know for sure what it is?"

"I've put a rush on his lab work but I'm going to start treating him as if he has been poisoned by arsenic, just in case. I should know something definitive in an hour, maybe two."

"Is he going to live?" David asked, unable to block out the image of his partner's body flailing about uncontrollably.

Dr. Ford looked at David. "He should, but he's probably not going to like what we may have to do to him; so, I'm going to keep him heavily sedated for a while, at least until I'm certain of what we're dealing with. Does he have any family in this area? I have some questions I need to ask them."

"He's from Idaho." Megan volunteered.

"Idaho? Would you happen to know what part? It could help me tailor the treatment for him."

"He's from Cascade." David said. "It's about an hour to the north of Boise."

Dr. Ford nodded. "I'll look that up on a map. Now, I need to get back in there. If you have any questions or if there's anything I can help with let me know." After Dr. Ford left, there was little to do but wait. Wait for Don to show, wait for Dr. Ford to come back out, wait for something to happen. Don finally arrived close to 45 minutes later, looking much like Megan felt; harried and in a foul mood.

"Today of all days, some idiot had to roll their car on the 110. I'm amazed I got through it as quickly as I did. What's the latest?" Don directed his question to Megan. One look at David told him a conversation would be useless. He was in his own separate hell.

While Megan filled Don in, David got up and went over to Trauma One's door, determined to see Colby. The only problem was there was no window in the door and he had to wait for the door to open to even catch a glimpse of his partner. This, unfortunately, put him in direct conflict with the staff for they had to go around him and that was unacceptable.

"Detective, sit down or leave. No buts. Do it. You're getting in our way here." The voice belonged to an older woman, the head ER nurse by the looks of it, and she'd clearly taken his suit and tie to mean he was a local detective.

David scowled.

The nurse arched an eyebrow at him. "Either you do it or I'll have you removed."

Right about then, Don realized that David wasn't sitting near him and Megan any more. He had moved and Don knew exactly where he had gone.

"Sinclair!" he hollered across the room.

David didn't so much as twitch, locked into a battle of wills with the older ER nurse.

"Sinclair!"

Nothing.

"David!"

David's head jerked and he looked guiltily in Don's direction.

"What are you doing?" Don demanded.

David stared at Don for a long moment, his training warring against his need to see Colby. In the end, his training won and he came back over to Don and Megan, defeated.

_Oh, yeah, he's gonna be totally useless until Granger wakes up. _Don thought. "I know you're concerned." Don told David, putting a hand on the other man's shoulder. "But you're not helping by standing over there, you're just getting in the way."

David did not respond. He simply stood there, stone faced.

"You know how it gets on your nerves when we get people at a crime scene who don't belong there?" Don asked him.

David nodded.

"You're doing the same damn thing. You've got to stay out of the way. If you can't, I'll make certain you're not allowed in here." Don told him, hating himself as the words came out of his mouth but they had to be said. Better him than the hospital legal beagles.

His words had the desired effect. David swallowed and nodded. "All right. I'm not having this conversation again. I'm going over to Colby's apartment to start figuring out what the hell happened."

Another nod.

Don waited until David was sitting down and in his own separate world again before returning to his conversation with Megan. "I'm going to find the bastard that did this and rip his throat out."

Megan offered him a grim smile. "You can be first in line."

Don looked around Megan to where David was seated. "Stay with him, at least until they move Colby."

She nodded. "You got it."

He turned and went out the sliding ER door, already calling in the crime scene techs.

* * *

Don had come to Granger's apartment to obstensively 'supervise' the crime scene technicians but supervision was not an active sport. He stood in the front doorway and watched, hands in his pockets, as the techs combed through his agent's place, poking their noses into Colby's life -- hopefully to find the source of Granger's illness.

Even though the techs had left the door open, the smell - the sheer almost physical miasma, of the place had rocked Don back on his heels when he'd arrived. Now he found himself waiting on the threshold, not wanting to add to Colby's sense of violation when the young agent found out the FBI's forensic criminalists had turned his home into a crime scene and tossed it from stem to stern.

Four techs had somehow managed to fit themselves into the small apartment, one in each of the rooms... kitchen, living area, bedroom and the bathroom/utility room/closet combination room.

"Shelly?" Don called out to the tech in the living area and the lead tech on the case. "Find anything yet?"

"No, but we just arrived." Shelly Montenegro checked the watch peeking out from the cuff of her latex glove. "Okay, we got here 15 minutes ago, we're still documenting things, we'll start digging as soon as the photographs are complete."

"Just try not to ... you know." Don wasn't sure what he was asking, but the soft look of compassion on Shelly's face said she knew and understood.

"Eppes, I've already told the team to treat this scene like it's our home ... we'll be gentle."

Joe Collins, the tech handling Colby's bedroom, stood in the doorway of the room holding up an item that Don had seen back when he was in college. Even then, the idiots who wore such things had struck him as having more than one screw loose. "And discreet, but I have to ask... Do you happen to know why Agent Granger has what looks to be a chainmail shirt?"

Don shrugged his shoulders and walked back into the living room. "Maybe it's something he picked up when he was overseas with the Army. Seems rather harmless, don't you think?"

"Right..." Joe disappeared back into the bedroom, mumbling something about 'silly tourists' spending way too much money on even sillier souvenirs.

Shelly shook her head as she turned her attention back to her photography. Mike Tambor, the tech knocking about in the kitchen, put his camera on the counter and opened the cabinet doors under the sink. "Whoa! What in the hell is that smell?"

"Mike?" Shelly called out as she approached, her camera in hand.

"Oh man... I'm going to have to bag this, huh?" Mike asked. He held up a trashcan and even Don could hear the contents sloshing about.

Shelly backed away. "Yeah, bag it and don't spill it."

"Please." Don added.

She turned back to face Don. "At least we'll have something for the tox lab to run."

He offered her a grim smile in return.

The sound of heels on the walkway behind him made Don turn around and look out of the apartment, only to spot the older woman who Megan had told him about coming toward him. He left the techs to their respective jobs and crossed the room to intercept the woman before she could walk in the door. He did not need civilians mucking up THIS crime scene. "Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.

"What's going on? Where's young Colby?" The woman had sincere concern plastered all over her distraught features.

"Colby's not here right now. Who are you?"

The woman drew herself up to her total height of about 5 and a half feet. "Mrs. Hattie MacPherson, young man. One of Colby's neighbors. You?"

Don actually had to fight off the urge to smile. "I'm Don Eppes, Colby's boss."

"Oh! You're Don! Colby's told me a lot about you... I think he wants to be you when he grows up."

On that Don smiled.

Hattie looked past Don's shoulder. "How is he? I've been worried about him ever since his other coworkers were by earlier and had him hauled off to the hospital."

The smile left Don's face. "He's hanging in there." He was not about to divulge anything but the absolute basics to anyone about Colby.

"I've never seen anyone with such a severe case of the flu. He was doing all right when I last saw him. Then I come back and he's being carted away to the hospital."

"Agent Reeves told me you were helping him out for the past couple of days. You must have been the person he mentioned when he called in sick. He said he had a neighbor helping him."

"Yes, he's such a nice young man. Always willing to help an old lady out with little chores I can't handle well anymore. And such a lovely appetite. I enjoy cooking for men with hearty appetites. Not much call for it since my Martin passed on."

"You cooked for Colby these past couple of days?" Don asked, his antennae poking up.

"Yes. And cleaned up behind him when he was... Well, when he would miss. You understand?" Don indicated that he did. "And I helped him out by cleaning up the dishes and doing his laundry too."

_Well, there goes _that_ evidence. _Don thought. "That must've been a great help to him." He said. "Is your apartment close by? Or did you have to walk a bit?"

"Just downstairs. I'm in 145." She once again looked past Don's shoulder, and then called out to someone in the apartment. "Young man! Please be careful with that, it's one of my casserole dishes!"

"Yes ma'am." Mike responded.

Don moved to completely block Hattie's view. "Mrs. MacPherson, could we perhaps talk down in your apartment? I need to know what happened the past couple of days."

"Of course, young man. You said your name is Don? Such a strong name." She took his arm in her hands. "And such a fitting name as well!" She smiled up at him and Don found himself fighting not to roll his eyes at her over-the-top flattery.

"My parents will be pleased to hear that." He replied. Deliberately misleading the woman.

"It's so rare to find men with manners nowadays. And that you and Colby work together--" She trailed off as she took the lead down the narrow stairwell before moving on to enter her own apartment.

_Where do you find them, Granger?_ Don thought as he followed her into her residence.

"Can I get you something to drink, Don?" She asked him.

"No, thank you." He said.

He cast a trained eye around the space. It was a mirror of Granger's place, in terms of the floor plan, after that... It was a study in knickknacks and bric-a-brac and lace. Lace everywhere. From the curtains to the tabletops, to the backs of the couch and Laz-E-Boy, to framed bits and pieces on the walls. His eyes wandered over the shelves that held dolls of all makes and styles. Little old lady décor, right off a Hollywood lot, all that was missing was a basket of knitting. Don stepped further into the apartment and mentally corrected his thoughts as he spotted a large basket of knitting materials sitting on the far side of the lounge chair.

Hattie walked into the kitchen and refilled a glass, which had been sitting on the counter. "I hope you don't mind if I drink while we talk, Don. I try to get a full six glasses of water down me every day."

Don smiled and nodded. "That's fine. It's good that you drink so much water. It's good for you."

"Yes, I know. Now, what is it you wanted to ask me about, Agent?"

"In case Agent Granger has something more than the flu, maybe even something more contagious, I need to know what went on over the past three days. I'd like to know what he ate and drank first off. Then I need to know the times you saw him and what he looked like each time."

Hattie came into the living area and sat down in the Laz-E-Boy while gesturing for Don to seat himself on the couch. "Well, I know that he drank some 7UP and when that was all gone, I went down to the store on the corner and got him some Ginger Ale and some tins of clear chicken broth. That would've been yesterday."

"Did you see him eat the broth?" Don asked.

"No, but he did manage to eat some homemade Mac N' Cheese I took up to him last night when he thought he was feeling better. Oh, that's when he polished off the 7UP too. And when I changed the sheets on his bed." Hattie said.

Don nodded. "Let's go back to the first night, Monday, when he came home early. Do you know or recall what he ate then?"

A thoughtful look crossed her face as Hattie clearly had to think back. "Let's see... I met him at the mailboxes. He didn't look at all well, so I offered to bring some soup by for him, which I did later than evening, but I don't recall him eating any of it. Poor dear was clearly not doing well in the tummy."

"So, Monday night, he told you he wasn't feeling well?"

"Yes, but he didn't need to tell me; he looked just ghastly."

Don nodded. "And the next day, Tuesday. Did you bring him something to eat?"

"I don't think so... I know I checked up on him, but I really don't recall bringing him anything."

"How was he? Did he get up and answer the door? Was he able to stand without assistance or losing his balance?"

"He seemed okay. A little unsteady, but he opened the door for me and we talked for a little while. He's always a gentleman, humoring a old bat like me by talking even when he clearly wanted to go back to bed."

"Okay. Tuesday night, do you know if he ate anything then?"

The more Don talked to Hattie, the more he shared in Megan's assessment. There was something off with Hattie; he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"I really don't know. I know he looked parched... but if he has that stomach bug..." She shrugged.

Don nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, when you get that, it's kinda hard to keep anything down. I know he had to appreciate the help."

"He certainly seemed to." Hattie replied.

"That's why I sent him home early Monday, I didn't need him spreading his germs around to everyone else."

"I understand that. My best friend, Elizabeth, she went down to San Diego to take care of her son's family. The whole group has taken ill with this stomach virus. It's just everywhere."

"Yes, ma'am, it is. I only have a couple more questions and I'll be done. I do appreciate your patience."

"It's no bother, Don. If it helps Colby to get better, you can stay and talk to me all day."

The use of his first name by her grated on Don's nerves for some reason but he put it aside. "You mentioned that he had some homemade Macaroni and Cheese last night?"

"Yes, my own special recipe. Would you like a sample?"

"I would like to say 'yes' but I don't have the time to eat it here. I'll take your word for it."

"Maybe another time then? I could always send some in with Colby after he's better."

Don smiled. "I'll keep it in mind. Thank you for offering. Was that the same day you went to the corner store for him?" Don asked, determined to keep the questioning going.

"Yes, I went to the store for him the same evening I brought the casserole dish up to him. It's just a five minute walk, nothing too strenuous."

"Still, that was very kind of you. Even five minutes with grocery bags, they must have been kinda heavy."

"Not really. It was just a few tins, crackers and one bottle of Ginger Ale."

Don nodded and took some notes. "Agent Reeves told me you considered calling an ambulance last night but didn't. Why?"

"I'm not sure he'll remember this but I told Colby I wanted to call for help for him, but he said not to. That he'd be okay by morning." Hattie said.

"All right. That's understandable. When was the last time you saw Agent Granger?"

Hattie picked up a TV guide from her basket of knitting, and flipped though it until she stopped about halfway through it. "Let's see… That really gory crime show was on CBS, I don't like watching that, so I went up to check on Colby. About nine?"

"How did he look then?" Don asked.

"That's when I wanted to call the ambulance. I even asked him if he wanted me to, he looked that ill to me, but he said no and went right back to sleep."

"So, you asked, he declined and went back to sleep?"

"Yes."

Don nodded again, looked down at his notes and then up at Hattie. "That's all the questions I have. But in case I or one of the other agents has any more questions, are you going to be here the next couple of days?"

"Agent Eppes, I'm a widow with no family in the area. Where would I go?" She smiled sweetly. "I'll be right here, waiting for young Colby to come home."

That smile and her saccharine tone of voice sent a shiver right down Don's spine.

Hattie picked up her knitting and the needles started to clack as she started on her project of the moment. "You will tell Colby I am praying for him, won't you, Don?"

"Yes, ma'am. If I could trouble you for one more thing?"

"Certainly."

"Could you make a list of the things you brought up to him or that you know he ate? If you can't remember everything that's fine. At this point, we're just trying to narrow the list down, if you know what I mean. One of us, myself or Agent Reeves, can come by later to pick it up."

"Of course. I don't mind at all. I know how you investigators work; you have to cover all the bases, don't you?"

Don nodded, stood and started to leave but stopped. "Mrs. MacPherson, would you consent to being fingerprinted? Simply for elimination purposes of course."

"You suspect something?" Hattie asked. The knitting needles quit their rapid actions.

"Ma'am, when the crime scene people dust for prints, who's ever been in there recently is going to turn up. If you were there because Agent Granger asked you in, we don't need to spend time finding that out."

"Oh! Of course. You would think I would know that from watching shows like Matlock and Murder She Wrote. Yes, I'll consent to being fingerprinted. Do I need to go downtown or back upstairs to Colby's place?"

"You can come back upstairs."

"I'll be up there in just a few minutes." She put her knitting back into the basket. "I have a sudden need to visit the powder room. I hope you don't mind if I don't show you out?"

"No, ma'am."

She stood up and smoothed down the skirt she was wearing, then turned to disappear into the bedroom area. Don watched her go, and then walked out of the apartment. He would be a 'gentleman' and wait for her.

A few minutes later, Hattie came outside and smiled at Don once more. "Your parents certainly raised you proper, Don. How sweet you are to wait for me."

Don smiled and offered her his arm. "My mother would be thrilled to hear that."

They walked back up to Colby's apartment, where the techs were finishing up and Shelly offered to do the actual printing of Hattie MacPherson. Afterwards, it was the other tech, John something-or-other, who escorted Hattie back to her apartment after giving her some baby wipes to wash the ink from her fingertips with. When John came back upstairs to gather up his equipment, his comment of 'that is one strange old lady' did little to settle Don's jangling nerves.

Megan was right. There was something about Hattie MacPherson that was making him uneasy.

* * *

It was close to one in the afternoon when Megan realized that breakfast had been a lifetime ago and that the cafeteria wasn't too far from the ER. Getting herself and David something to eat would give her something to do; there was only so much sitting and waiting she could take. The trip down to the cafeteria also gave her a chance to organize her thoughts and decompress a bit. She thought of calling Larry, her boyfriend, but decided against it. She would only confuse him and she simply didn't have the time or the inclination to 'un' confuse him at the moment.

Arriving back at the ER with two sandwiches and two cans of soda, she found David in the exact same place as she had left him. He didn't appear to have moved an inch from his seat. She nudged him with her elbow and handed him one of the sandwiches and one of the sodas. He opened to his mouth to decline but shut it after Megan looked at him.

"I don't want to hear it. You need to eat. You are not going to be of any help to anyone if you keel over from hunger." She unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. "Besides, if the roles were reversed and Colby was sitting out here, you think he wouldn't eat?"

David looked down at the sandwich in his hands and shook his head. Mechanically, he unwrapped the sandwich and forced himself to eat. At least, it gave him something to do. When 'lunch' was finished a few minutes later, they were back to sitting and waiting.

_Too bad I don't have some reports to read. I might have actually been able to make a dent in my paperwork. _Megan thought.

David stood and started to pace. "Don't worry, I'm not going over there."

"I wasn't going to say anything." Megan replied.

"But I can't shake the idea that he's all alone in there." David said. "The doctor says he's stabilized, so why can't I go in? He wouldn't be alone then. He'd know that someone familiar was there."

Megan kept to herself the opinion that Colby probably wasn't aware of much of anything at the moment. There was no telling what the toxin had already damaged; if Colby didn't suffer some kind of brain damage, he would be extremely lucky.

"You think differently don't you?" David asked.

"What I think isn't important right now but I do believe that people in a coma can hear and try to communicate." Megan replied, calmly.

Not knowing what to say to that, David did not reply. He continued to pace. Time slowed to a crawl yet again. People came and went, ambulances came in and went out but no one who came out of Trauma One came over to them.

"What the hell is going on?" David asked, finally growing weary of pacing and sitting down in the nearest chair. "Why hasn't someone come out and said something?"

Megan had no answer for him.

David was on the verge of getting up and making a pest of himself, again, when a nurse came out of Trauma One and came over to them.

"Agents? We're going to move patient Granger now. Would you like to accompany him or head up to ICU and wait for him?"

David was on his feet in an instant. "I'll go with him."

Megan almost smiled. "I'll go on upstairs and wait. What floor is ICU on?"

"Third floor." The nurse replied.

Megan squeezed David's shoulder then walked towards the elevators.

David followed the nurse over to the door and would have followed her in but she stopped him, saying, "Wait just a moment."

The door opened then and David got his first look at Granger since arriving at the ER four and a half hours earlier. It almost made him sick. He swallowed and tried to numb himself to the reality in front of him but it was no good. That was _his_ partner lying flat on his back with a tube sticking out of his mouth. IV lines and other equipment attached to Colby made him look like a gawd damn stereo system. A blanket was pulled up to almost his chin and, once again, David was struck by how still his friend was. He'd had never seen him so still and lifeless and he prayed he never would again.

_This has got to be the strangest parade ever. _David thought, with two nurses, an orderly and himself accompanying the gurney upstairs. Not knowing whether not he could touch Colby, David focused on watching him breathe. In and out. Rise and fall. With every breath Colby took, a knife twisted deeper and deeper into his soul. He _would_ find the creature responsible and they would pay dearly!

The elevator dinged and they were on the third floor. Megan was waiting for them at the entrance to the ICU. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Colby but that was her only visible emotion.

The ICU consisted of twelve rooms laid out in the shape of a horseshoe with a nurse's station in the middle. There were patients on the left side of the horseshoe in Rooms 3, 4, 5 and 6 but none on the right side of the horseshoe until Colby was wheeled into Room number 12.

"Stand aside." A nurse told David.

He did, moving back to stand in the doorway, amazed at the swiftness in which Colby was transferred from the gurney to the ICU bed and then hooked up to all the monitors and equipment, the most disturbing piece being the respirator. He knew it was a necessary evil, the heavy sedation Colby would be under would relax all of the muscles in his body, including the ones that were needed to breathe. He knew it but that knowledge was cold comfort when faced with the reality of watching a machine breathe for his partner.

When Colby was finally settled, a nurse gave David the go ahead to come back into the room. There was a chair near the door with a small table next to it. He settled into the chair, his eyes never leaving Colby.

Megan came in behind David and settled a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to go back to the office. For the good of everyone, please don't just sit here tormenting yourself."

He nodded.

"You're not going to do yourself any good."

David nodded. What Megan was saying was true and he knew it was true. He just didn't care. If tormenting himself would get Colby to wake up sooner then that's exactly what he would do. All that mattered to him was his partner opening his eyes and rejoining the land of the living. He heard Megan sigh and turned to look at her.

"You don't think I haven't tormented myself already? 'Cause I have. And I know I shouldn't. There is no point in playing the 'What If?' game because you'll drive yourself crazy. I know all of this and yet--" He threw his hands in the air.

She came around and squatted in front of him. "David, if you never listen to me again, you've got to this time. Don and I are going to need you in one piece, mentally and physically, if we are going to catch whoever did this. You aren't going to be either if you just sit here and…" She waved her free hand around, no longer able to find the right words to illustrate her own frustration.

"I told you I wouldn't and you're going to have to take my word for it." He replied.

She nodded, stood and left. She came back a few minutes later with a book in her hand. She handed it to David and said, "Read, it'll give you something to do." She smiled and left.

David tossed the book on the table. Megan meant well but she hadn't seen what he had seen. She hadn't been the one Colby had looked through like she wasn't she wasn't even there. She hadn't watched Colby's body spasm uncontrollably, and because she hadn't, she simply couldn't understand. No one could.

He dropped his head, folded his hands together and began to pray.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 4**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

**Day Four, part three**

The early afternoon sun shone through the windows of the fourteenth floor of the F.B.I. building, pooling onto the carpet and beckoning anyone inside to stop what they were doing and come outside to appreciate a rare, mostly smog free day in L.A. The outside beauty however was totally lost on Megan. She had one goal and one goal only. Find out what had happened to Colby, why it had happened and who had done it and quickly. Until then, nothing else mattered.

Early afternoon sunlight slid into early evening and Megan kept working. The phone on Don's desk rang but she made no move to answer it. If it were truly important, the call would roll over to her desk phone, which rang moments later.

"Agent Reeves." she answered automatically, her mind still on the rough crime timeline she had constructed.

_"Reeves? I'm looking for Eppes. Where is he?"_ Asst. Director Wright barked into the phone.

Great, of all the people to call looking for Don, it had to be the new Assistant Director of Agents.

_"Reeves?"_ Wright repeated himself.

"Sir, I have not seen Agent Eppes recently." Megan replied.

_"When he comes in, you tell him to report to my office ASAP and there'd better be no dust on the soles of his shoes either." _Wright hung up with a loud click.

Megan gently replaced the receiver. A.D.A. Wright, apparently, was in a foul mood and Don was his target. But Don, unbeknownst to Wright, was in a pretty foul mood himself. The conversation between those two was bound to be interesting. She was torn between wanting to be a fly on the wall in the Assistant Director's office and wanting to hide in the bomb shelter in the basement of the building.

The elevator dinged and Don came into view a few moments later, looking like the Wrath of God. Megan got his attention and pointed upward. He groaned, turned and walked back to the elevator but only after muttering something that was physically impossible for the Director to do.

* * *

Damn, damn, damn! Don hit the wall of the elevator with his fist. _I don't have the time to play politics with Wright! What the hell does he want outta me now?_

He glanced down at his clothes and sighed in relief. He still had his suit jacket on. He was still within the dress code. Owing to the lateness of the hour, A.D.A. Wright's secretary was gone by the time Don walked by her desk. He knocked on the Director's door, waited for a summons, and then went in.

"You wanted to see me, Director Wright?" He asked, shutting the door behind him and approaching the Director's desk. It was a nice desk, in a nice office, an office he kinda aspired to, if he didn't get fired in the next ten minutes.

Assistant Director of Agents Wright, a tallish man with skin the color of mahogany, put the cap back on the pen he was using, closed the file he had been reading and put both to the side of his desk. He pushed back in his chair and looked at his watch.

"It's 5:32 P.M., Agent Eppes." Wright said, looking up at Don. "I last saw you at roughly 10 o'clock this morning. Where the hell have you been? I certainly hope you're not in the habit of vanishing like that on a regular basis or we're going to have a large problem, you and I."

Wright looked and sounded totally calm and that worried Don. He hardly knew the new director. He hadn't learned to read him just yet and that put him, Don, at a distinct disadvantage.

"You don't make it a habit, do you?" Wright asked Don a second time, still calm.

"No, sir." Don replied, just as calm. "I do apologize for running out the door like that but I had just received a phone call that one of my agents was deathly ill and I had to get to the hospital."

"So you shouted over your shoulder. Who is it and what's wrong with him or her?"

"Agent Colby Granger, sir. A bit taller than me, he's a former Army Ranger. He was poisoned, the hospital just hasn't figured out by what yet." Don said, being as diplomatic as he could stand.

Wright's brow furrowed in thought and Don could almost hear the man's mental Rolodex flipping as the Director searched for a face to go with the name. He must have found the right face because his forehead cleared.

"All right. So, once you found out about Agent Granger, you couldn't have called back here, if for no other reason than to warn us? What if this had been start of a biological attack?"

Don groaned inwardly. "With all due respect Director, once it was determined that this wasn't a biological attack, I was more interested in starting the investigation into what had happened versus calling back to the office for no real reason. Had this been an attack, I would have most certainly called it in."

"And you absolutely certain that it wasn't?"

"Yes, sir. Agent Granger was the only one affected and it took four days for him to be sickened. That's way too slow for any biological attack that I know of."

_I don't believe this. _Don thought, darkly. _I'm getting my ass chewed out because I didn't call Wright and tell him where I was? And I thought Merrick was a prick._

"What is Agent Granger's condition now?" Wright asked, seemingly content to sit there and ask Don questions.

"I don't know. The hospital was waiting on the lab work to finish. The ER doctor thought it look liked heavy metal poisoning." Don replied.

"Heavy metal?"

"Yes, sir. Mercury, arsenic, those kinds of metals."

Wright nodded but asked no further questions.

_Okay, what is his problem? He just wants me to stand here until he's finished with me? I'm gonna get fired 'cause I am walking out that door in the next five minutes. _Don thought.

An uneasy silence grew in the absence of the conversation until a knock on the door broke the silence. Don sneaked a look at his watch. He had two minutes to go.

Wright frowned again. "Yes?"

"Director Wright? It's Agent Reeves." Megan's voice came through door.

Wright glared at Don. "Has she come to rescue you?"

"No, sir." Don replied.

Wright made a derisive noise, and then said, "Come in."

The door opened and Megan walked in, cell phone in hand. She shut the door, came over and stood next to Don.

"I do apologize for interrupting, Director Wright but the doctor that's treating Agent Granger just called and I thought you both would want to hear what he had to say."

Don cast Megan a worried glance.

"And?" Wright said.

"The lab results show that Agent Granger has ingested significant amounts of arsenic."

Don's heart sank. He had been holding out some hope, however slim, that Colby was only suffering from a nasty bout of the flu but the doctor's diagnosis destroyed that hope.

"What is Agent Granger's condition now?" Wright asked.

"Stable but questionable. The doctors aren't sure what damage has been done to his brain or internal organs and they won't know until they can bring up from the induced coma and run some neurological tests."

_Stable but questionable? What the hell kind of medical doubletalk was that?_ Don thought he might be sick.

"What do you need?" Wright asked, addressing both Don and Megan.

Don blinked. His mind was still processing the doctor's diagnosis and he didn't think he had heard Director Wright correctly. "I'm sorry, Director, but could you repeat yourself?" he asked.

"What Do You Need To Catch Whoever Did This?" Wright said, speaking slowly. "Agent Granger is not just your agent, he's mine as well and I don't take kindly to those who would attack my agents. You attack one of us, you attack all of us."

Don nodded. Okay, maybe Wright wasn't such a prick after all. "I would like a 24 hour guard at Agent Granger's room. He's at Gardena Medical Center."

"Done. Anything else?"

"No, sir. Not at the moment."

"If you think of anything else, do not hesitate to ask." Wright paused, and then added, "Are you or anyone on your team due in court this week or the next?"

"No, sir." Megan answered for Don.

"Good. I can just see the defense attorneys having a field day if continuances were to be filed for their cases. Agent Eppes?"

"Yes, Director?"

"I want updates as soon as you get them and I want at least three a day."

"Yes, sir." _I can't give you any updates if I'm standing in your office trying to save my job. _Don thought.

"Now, Agent Granger's family. I'm assuming you were holding off notifying them until you knew something definite. Now that you do, you'll notify them immediately?" Wright asked.

Don nodded. Of course he would call Colby's family. Did Wright think he was an idiot?

Wright looked from Don's face to Megan's then back again. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you, Director." Megan said.

"Thank you." Don echoed.

Out in the hallway with Wright's office door safely closed, Don stopped, loosened his tie and heaved a huge sigh of relief. "You are a lifesaver." He told Megan.

She smiled. "Like I would have left you to the Director's tender mercies. Dr. Ford's phone call was Providence."

Don scrubbed his face with both hands and shook his head. "But he's right, I've got to call Colby's parents." His shoulders slumped. "What the hell happened to him?"

Megan towed Don over to the elevator and pushed the 'down' button. "We're going to find out, you know we will."

He nodded. "And it can't happen soon enough for me."

The elevator dinged and the two agents got on.

"It can't come soon enough for any of us." Megan said, just before the elevator doors slid shut.

* * *

David was standing just outside of Colby's room, stretching his legs when a petite Hispanic woman in a L.A. P.D. uniform came into the I.C.U. She spoke to a nurse and then came over to David.

"Agent Sinclair?" She asked, walking up to him. "I'm Officer Margaritte Hinijosa, L.A.P.D. Protection Detail."

David looked at Officer Hinijosa for a long moment. _What?_

"Asst. Director Wright requested a twenty-four hour guard for Agent Granger. I got the call." She said.

David nodded. It made sense to have a guard. If someone had tried to kill Colby once, it stood to reason that that whoever it was, would try again to finish the job. He held out his hand.

"David Sinclair."

Officer Hinijosa nodded, and then took up a position to the left of the door. David returned to his chair in Colby's room. Nurses drifted in and out to check on Colby. Family members of the other patients in the I.C.U. walked back and forth past his room, each wrapped up in their own misery.

An older woman with steel gray hair and a sour look on her aged face caught David's attention. Well, not all of his attention, most of it was focused on Colby but he was too much of a trained observer not to notice the woman coming by four times in fifteen minutes. He would have completely dismissed her altogether but she seemed far more interested in Colby than a total stranger should be. He waited to see if she would come by again and when she did, he locked eyes with her. Her dark eyes sparked with such utter contempt and disregard that he rose to his feet and came out to speak with her but she was already back across the area, seated in Room # 3 next to an elderly man. She did not look his way again.

"Officer Hinijosa?" he asked.

"Yes, Agent Sinclair?" she replied.

"Find out who that woman is in Room # 3. She's making me very nervous."

"Certainly." Officer Hinijosa went to the nurse's station, leaned over the counter and had a quiet conversation with one of the nurses. A few minutes later, she came back to David and said, "Her name is Mrs. Kellie Von Husen. She's sitting with her husband, Alfred." Officer Hinijosa paused, then added, "She's doesn't seem to like anyone who's not…"

"White?" David finished for her.

Officer Hinijosa nodded.

David let his gaze drift over to Room # 3. Mrs. Von Husen's nose was in a book. He shook his head. He had yet to figure out what made a person act like that.

"Thanks." He said.

"You're welcome." Officer Hinijosa replied. She went back to her post and left David standing in the doorway.

* * *

"Agent Sinclair?" A voice said to David. He snapped awake and looked around. Night had fallen sometime before and the lights in the room were dimmed. It took him a moment in the half-light of room to see who was speaking. A nurse, Rhonda something, in teal scrubs stood next to his chair, looking down at him.

_If she thinks she's getting me to leave, she's got another thing coming._ David thought, steadfast in his refusal to leave Colby's side.

"It's getting late and I've noticed that you haven't gone and gotten anything to eat. You really should at least try, no matter how hard it might be."

_Why doesn't anyone understand that I'm NOT leaving until Colby wakes up? Why is this SO hard for everyone to grasp?_ David looked at the nurse. _Don't bite her head off, Sinclair, she's only doing her job._

"Thanks for your concern," He said. "But I'm fine, really." His eyes darted past Rhonda and over to Colby.

She leaned over and put her hands on the armrest, allowing David to catch a whiff of the soap from her hands. "Agent Sinclair, my brother is a Treasury Agent, so I have some idea of what you're going through. I've watched him go through this too."

_So?_

"I'll tell you what I've told him." She opened her mouth to say something else but didn't. Instead, she tilted her head to one side and said "No, on second thought I don't think I will. You've probably already heard it two or three times today."

David nodded. At last, she was making some sense..

"Seriously though, you've got to get something to eat."

David scowled. "Ma'am, I appreciate your concern but I am fine. Please, don't worry about me."

Rhonda sighed and shook her. "You could have been my brother, Brian, just now. Tell you what; I'm just about to take my dinner break. I would be more than happy to get you something."

David considered her offer. Lunch had been a long time ago. His stomach made its feelings known by growling at that moment. Rhonda quirked an eyebrow at him.

"All right." David said, feeling quite foolish. He reached for his wallet. "Thank you."

She put a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it. Consider it a 'thank you' from a grateful citizen. Is there anything specific you'd like?"

David frowned. He hadn't a clue. "Get me whatever your brother would like." He said, after a long moment.

Rhonda laughed and said, "You sure you want me to do that? You have no idea what he considers to be food."

David looked over at Colby. "I think I might have some idea."

She nodded, patted his arm and left.

"Hear that, Granger?" David asked Colby. "I've got a nurse buying me dinner. You'd better wake up soon so you can see her. She's pretty cute. I think you'd like her."

* * *

"Mrs. Von Husen, I apologize if you're uncomfortable but Agent Granger has just as much right to our facilities as your husband does." The voice of Rodrigo Mendoza, one of the overnight I.C.U. nurses, snapped David awake. He grimaced and stretched and glanced at Colby.

There was no movement. David scowled. Every time he looked at his partner, it was like a kick in the gut.

"That, Nurse Mendoza is not my complaint." Mrs. Von Husen said. "My problem is all the guns in here. Guns in a hospital! I do not appreciate that!" Her voice rose the longer she talked.

David's scowl deepened. It was bad enough that Colby was in the I.C.U. because of one crazy old woman but for another crazy old woman to be making a scene about him and the guard was just making a bad situation worse.

"Mrs. Von Husen, I need you to lower your voice. We won't be able to let you stay if you can't be a little more quiet." Nurse Mendoza said.

Mrs. Von Husen snorted. "I have to be quiet but there can be armed men in this area?"

David rose to his feet and came out to the nurse's station. He had met Nurse Mendoza when the overnight shift came in and he liked the man. There was no reason for him to be hassled and David was in the mood to tell Mrs. Von Husen just that. "Is there a problem?" He asked, calmly.

"No problem at all, Agent Sinclair." Mendoza said to David. Seated behind the nurse's station, he aimed a _look_ at Mrs. Von Husen, daring her to say something.

Mrs. Von Husen glared in return and said, "Yes, there is a problem. Young man," she pointed a finger at David, "I do not appreciate all these guns in here. You have one, that guard over there has one. And what for? This is a place of healing. That can not happen if half the area is armed to the teeth."

David put his hands on his hips, pushed back his suit coat so his weapon could be seen clearly and tried not to bite off the old biddy's head. "Mrs. Von Husen?" He asked.

She nodded.

"That man in there is my brother. Someone tried to kill him and I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here, unarmed, and wait for whoever it was to finish him off." He replied.

Mrs. Von Husen's face wrinkled in confusion. She looked at David, then at Colby, then back at David. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. When she finally managed to say something, it was unintelligible.

"Yes, you heard me correctly. He is my **brother** and I **will** protect him. Now, if that's a problem, feel free to call and speak with my supervisor. His name is Don Eppes and he is a Senior Agent at the L.A. Field Office of the FBI."

"Oh... of all the... what in the world... mixed marriages." Mrs. Von Husen sputtered, turned and marched back to Room Three. David glared after her.

Nurse Mendoza tried to control his laughter but it was a struggle. When he finally managed to get his mirth under control, he said, "Agent Sinclair, thank you."

David gave him a small smile and went back to Colby's room.

* * *

The 14th floor of the Federal Building was mostly empty, reflecting the lateness of the hour but it wasn't totally empty. Don and Megan sat side-by-side pouring over the information collected from Colby's apartment. Crime scene photos lay in a stack off to one side. Lab reports, witness statements and a rough timeline of the events were spread before the two. The remains of a hasty dinner resided on an unused desk.

Don read the lab report in front of him for the fourth time, trying to force himself to comprehend what the report said but it wasn't happening. The words danced and blurred in front of him and refused to make sense. He blinked, scrubbed his face with his hands and stretched. Somewhere in the mass of paper before him were the answers to who had poisoned Colby and why. He would be damned if the sun rose again without having those answers. He sighed and focused his attention on the lab report again.

"Don?" Megan asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?" Don replied, not looking up.

"At least one of us needs to be coherent and that's not going to happen if we're both out here reading the same sentence again and again."

Don looked over at Megan. She was starting to fray at the edges herself but, apparently, not as bad as him, judging from the look on her face. "What'cha sayin' Reeves?"

"Why don't you go crash on the couch in the break room and I'll keep reading. When I get something, you'll know." Megan told him.

Don considered her words. Sleep would be nice, especially since he didn't know when he'd get the chance again. He looked at his watch. It was five minutes after midnight.

"It'll be better if the Senior Agent on the case is awake." Megan prodded.

"All right, all right." Don stood, stretched and made his way over to the break room. He turned at the door and started to say "You wake me if…"

"Don…" Megan cut him off.

He made a face and retreated to the couch.

* * *

"That bitch!" Megan's voice reached into the break room and yanked Don awake. She hardly ever cursed, so when she did, she had a damn good reason.

She appeared in the doorway of the break room, a piece of paper in one hand, and a grin on her face. "I've got her! I've got that crazy bitch!"

"Show me." Don said. The brief amount of sleep he had gotten had refreshed him immensely.

Megan led him over to the desk and picked up another sheet of paper. "This is the lab result from what was in Colby's kitchen trash can." She put the paper down and waved the other paper in her hand. "And this is the report from the food that was taken from his fridge. They match."

Don almost forgot to breathe.

"The real kicker? The pot that the food was taken from is covered in Hattie MacPherson's fingerprints."

Don blinked. For once, it really was that easy. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his watch. Three twenty-five A.M. He had gotten over three hours worth of sleep. Amazing. He looked up at Megan. "Find the closest judge and sit on his doorstep until he appears. I want this woman in custody now." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'm going to go kick David out of Colby's room so he can get some sleep."

Megan looked at Don. "You actually think he's going to? After all this?"

"Doesn't matter what I think. He just has to do what he's told." Don replied, scooping up his suit coat. "Great work." He added.

Finally, things were starting to fall into place.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 5**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

**Day Five**

David startled awake... his first glance was over to Colby, who hadn't moved at all, and then over to the door. Don was standing there, his expression troubled in the dim light of the room as he took in the scene before him. David moved to stand up from the uncomfortable chair, but Don waved him back down as he stepped into the room.

"Sit back down, David."

He did.

Don moved closer to the bedside, his face unreadable. "Any improvement?"

David shook his head. "Nothing."

Don's right eyebrow crept up on his face. "You sound like crap, Sinclair. You get any real sleep yet?"

David frowned. What the hell kind of question was that? "Did you?" He shot back.

"I grabbed a few hours. You've been catnapping in that chair since Reeves left you earlier, haven't you?"

David's frown deepened but he couldn't lie to his boss. He nodded. "One of the nurses got me dinner though."

"Good. Listen, David, I know what you're going through ...trust me on that... and you're not doing Colby any good if you wear yourself out worrying about him." Don came over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'll stay with him, go home and grab a couple of hours and a shower. You'll feel better for it and Colby won't have to smell you when he wakes up." The older agent smiled, softening his harsh words.

David shook his head. He had been the last person Colby had seen and he would be the first person Colby would see when he woke up. "I'll be fine."

Don moved to stand in front of David, then dropped into a squat so he could look right into his agent's eyes. "David... I talked with the nurses before I came in here. There's little chance of Colby waking up before noon today. Go home; grab a decent nap and a shower. I'll call you if anything changes." David started to protest but Don stopped him with a firm squeeze on the knee.

"No argument, Sinclair. Go home. I'll stay with Colby until you get back."

David looked at Don. He knew Don wasn't lying, Don would stay with Colby. But could he help it if he felt like he was abandoning Colby if he left?

"David, I need you at the top of your game. Megan will need you there as well. The hospital lab work came back, it is arsenic ... and I suspect it wasn't an accident. Megan and I will have to have you on your feet and ready to go when we find out who did this." Don stood back up and hauled David to his feet. "If nothing else, you need to be ready to be here to protect Colby if someone comes after him again."

David nodded and swallowed, feeling utterly defeated. He went over to Colby's bedside and squeezed his arm. "Don's here." he said. "I'll be back later. You hang in there."

"David...there's a LAPD car waiting outside the ER. They're from Walker's team and have orders to take you home. When you're ready to come back, call me and I'll arrange for a ride then too."

_Damn, he thinks of everything. _David thought. He looked out in the open area and saw Rodrigo Mendoza standing at the nurse's counter.

"Before I go, let me introduce you to the nurse that I've been talking with." David said to Don.

Don nodded and followed David out to the nurse's station.

"Rodrigo, this is my boss, Don Eppes." David said to Rodrigo.

Rodrigo smiled, stood up and shook hands with Don. "Pleasure to meet you, Agent Eppes. You're the next shift, hmm?"

Don almost smiled. "That would be me."

"Excuse me, young man, are you his boss?" Mrs. Von Husen came up to Don and pointed at David.

Don glanced at David for a moment, then at Rodrigo, then back at Mrs. Von Husen. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, I have a thing or two to say to you about the attitude of some of your people."

David groaned. He was simply too tired and too worn down to keep up the professional image any more.

Don looked over at David. "Go on, go home and remember what I said."

David nodded and went out the door.

Don returned his gaze to the diminutive woman in front of him. He quirked an eyebrow at her and tried not to think ugly thoughts about old women in general. "What about the attitude of some of my people?"

"That man of yours that just left? He is rude and quite…" Mrs. Von Husen started to say.

"Mrs. Von Husen," Rodrigo said, interrupting her. "Would you kindly keep your opinions to yourself. Leave Agent Granger and his colleagues alone, please."

"I will not! How DARE they bring guns into a hospital? It's not HEALTHY!" She snapped at Rodrigo.

Rodrigo fixed her with a glare and crossed his arms. "Mrs. Von Husen, if you will not stop harassing Agent Granger's colleagues, I will have you removed. It's your attitude that's not healthy."

"Really? My attitude is the problem? Fine. As soon as you can arrange it so my husband can be moved...I'll leave. Gladly." She stalked off, but not before Don heard the derogatory term flung at Mendoza. "Spic."

"Can not be too soon for me." Rodrigo muttered.

"I take it she's been a real pain in the--?" Don asked of the harried RN.

Rodrigo nodded. "She's what my _abuela_ would call 'loco en cabeza'."

"Maybe you could have an accident with a syringe full of sedatives?" Don offered.

Rodrigo laughed. "Agent Eppes, you're going to get me fired."

"Yeah, well, she kinda looks like the suspect in Agent Granger's case. If she bothers him or harasses me too much--" Don decided that discretion was the better part of valor and didn't complete the sentence.

"Can I watch?" Rodrigo asked.

"You may have to treat her. Or not." Don gave the nurse a nod, walked into Granger's room and sat down in the chair David had vacated. "Okay Granger, I'm here. Time to wake up and tell me you're ready to get your ass back to work." Colby didn't move. "Worth a shot." He found a bookmark in the book, entitled The History of Crime and Punishment In America, which David had been reading to Colby and picked up where he had left off.

* * *

A knock on her door at 7:30 in morning was a surprise to Hattie MacPherson. No one she knew would come calling so early. Surprise or not though, it would be rude to keep whomever it was waiting. She calmly put away the laptop computer, after saving her latest chapter, and walked out to her living room. Peering through the peephole, she was only mildly startled to see the female FBI agent from yesterday standing on the other side of the door.

She stepped back, slid the security chain out of the lock and pulled open the door. "Agent... Reeds, right? How's young Colby? What can I do for you this morning?"

The blond agent held up a piece of paper as she stepped into Hattie's home. "Harriet Ann MacPherson, I have a search warrant for your home. Please step outside with this officer." The agent pointed at a woman standing next to her.

Hattie knew if she acted 'wrongly' this smart cookie of an agent would catch it. So, she kept up the confused persona that had served her so well in the past as she followed the agent's orders. "Of course, Agent Reeds. Though I have no idea why you would need to search my home."

Megan didn't say anything as the crime scene techs, the same ones that had processed Colby's apartment the day before, entered the apartment completely avoiding the old woman standing on the walkway outside. They fanned out, taking the same areas as the day before. Shelly in the living room, Joe in the bedroom, Mike in the kitchen and John in the utility/ laundry room.

Joe found Hattie's laptop.

"Bag it, we'll have the computer techs pull it apart." Megan told him.

Then Mike called Megan over into the kitchen. "Reeves, I think we just hit pay dirt." He was holding up a vial of something in his gloved hands. She walked over and looked at the vial. It was a bottle of arsenic, neatly labeled no less. She shook her head before turning and walking outside.

Hattie brightened considerably when she saw Megan. "Ah, Agent Reeds, may I go back in?"

Glaring at the older woman, Megan said, "Harriet MacPherson, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Special Agent Colby Granger."

"The what? I never...! How could you think such a thing? I love that young man like he's my own son!" Hattie protested, tears springing to her eyes but she offered no resistance as the LAPD officer behind her put the metal cuffs around her wrists.

She kept up the crying as the officer took her over to a black and white police unit and carefully assisted her in climbing into the back seat, something not easy to do with your hands cuffed behind your back. She stifled her tears long enough to hear Agent Reeves tell the officer to take her to the FBI office. She sat back as best she could and started to review her plans for this particular contingency. She would need a whooper of a story to get out of this mess.

* * *

Megan watched as Patrolwoman Mendoza helped Hattie MacPherson climb into the backseat of her unit and closed the door. "Cecilia, take her to my office and turn her over to any of the agents on the 14th floor, Major Crime Unit. I'll call ahead and make sure they know you're coming." Over Mendoza's shoulder, she spied at a marked patrol unit that was just pulling into the apartment complex's parking area. It wasn't one of the typical black and whites from LAPD, or even one of the local county marked units. "Do yourself a favor, keep your recorder on while you've got that… _woman_ in the back seat."

Cecilia Mendoza nodded and climbed behind the wheel of her unit, as her partner, another female officer, climbed in on the passenger side and sat in such a way as to keep her eyes on the prisoner. Megan stepped back as Mendoza pulled away and found her gaze returning to the unusual marked unit, which had now pulled into a slot right next to Colby's FBI issued sedan. Keeping one eye on the new arrival as she walked back to MacPherson's apartment, she checked on the crime scene techs' progress then decided to take a walk up the stairs to Colby's place.

She had found Granger's key ring on the TV stand in the younger agent's place yesterday just as the paramedics were wheeling him out to the ambulance and had followed some instinct and pocketed them. Today, Megan was going to use them to take another look around the junior agent's home to see if there was anything the crime scene techs might have missed. Opening the door, she once again found herself holding her breath as cloud of foul odor greeted her. Breathing through her mouth, Megan entered the small apartment and started to open windows. Once that was done, she found the thermostat and turned the central fan on.

Back in the living room, she thought back to how the place had looked yesterday when she and Sinclair had discovered Granger half-dead. A lot had happened since. After being up almost the entire night with Don working over the evidence, when the first piece of the puzzle fell into place.

She had grabbed a couple of hours sleep before appearing in Judge Trelane's office at seven that morning, obtaining both a search warrant and a provisional arrest warrant - dependent on what, if anything, they found in MacPherson's place. Having Mike find the vial of powdered arsenic was the final piece of the puzzle. Hattie MacPherson had poisoned Colby with arsenic mixed into his food; the only real question left was why.

"Excuse me,"

Megan nearly jumped out of her skin, her hand automatically reaching for her sidearm even before her heart started beating again, as an eerily familiar voice quietly intruded on her thoughts. She spun to face the door, only to see a man in a dark green and tan police uniform - complete with leather equipment belt – standing there, his hands held out to his side to show her he wasn't holding a weapon. Then that eerie voice sounded again, "What are you doing in my son's apartment?"

She stopped milking the grip on her sidearm as she took a good close look at the man who had addressed her. _So that's what Colby will look like in 30 years… **damn**!_

Granger had never talked much about his family, other than he had grown up in some small town in Idaho and most of the family was still in touch even if their careers had drawn them away from the wide-open spaces of home. "Mister Granger?"

"Chief, actually… Miss…?"

"Agent. Megan Reeves. I work with Colby, sir." She took the hand that had been extended in greeting.

"CeeJay has always had the devil's own luck when it came to working with beautiful women. Pardon me for asking again, Agent Reeves, but why are you here?"

Megan hesitated, unsure how much, if anything, Colby might have spoken to his father about. The Chief must have noticed her hesitation for he spoke again in that voice that sounded so much like his son's. "Agent Reeves, I talked with CeeJay on the phone a few days ago, late Tuesday night in fact, so I know he's been ill. Did someone finally drag his ass to the doctor's office?"

Biting her lip, Megan laid a hand on Chief Granger's arm and drew him back outside before telling the man the news. "Sir, Colby's in the hospital, but not for a virus. He's been poisoned."

The Chief seemed to take the news well, but his face was as hard to read as his son's. He simply nodded.

"When did it happen?" he asked.

"Yesterday morning." Megan told him.

"How?"

"In his food."

"Dare I ask if you've caught the bastard who did this? Or, even better, is he dead?"

A chill ran down Megan's spine. Chief Granger, obviously, would do anything to protect his son. Must be nice. "We have a suspect in custody, sir."

"Good. Now what hospital is CeeJay in and how do I get there?"

"Gardena Medical Center. It's not far from here. I'd be happy to drive you." Megan said.

Chief Granger shook his head. "Thank you but no. I came not only to see CeeJay but to pick up a prisoner for transport back to Cascade but I'll deal with that later."

Megan nodded. No wonder she hadn't recognized the patrol unit. Chief Granger had driven down from wherever Colby was from.

"Not to be rude, Agent Reeves but…." Chief Granger started to say, still calm.

"You're not. Follow me." She said, reaching back and shutting and locking the apartment door. She'd have to come back later to turn off the a/c and shut the windows. _Now I know where Granger gets that infuriating calm-in-the-storm attitude. _Megan thought walking back to her car. _His father must have passed it on to him. _

* * *

The discussion Gareth had with his son's doctor, along with the news that the person responsible was in custody, and would pay - dearly - for hurting his boy, had given him a small bit of hope. All of his boys were fighters. But it had been way too close. If Colby's coworkers hadn't thought to check on him when they did, the doctors told him, there was a _damn good chance_ his youngest would have been beyond medical help.

"We'll know more when we bring him out of the induced coma." One doctor, a bear of man, with a name to match - Bernard Ursa - said. "We induced the coma to give his body a chance to heal on its own without him fighting the treatment."

"He'll be allowed to wake up by this afternoon and then we'll run the neurological tests, a CAT Scan, test his memory, that kind of thing. Please, don't be alarmed when you see him. It's only temporary." Another doctor, tall, with thinning brown hair said to him.

Gareth nodded. He would hold it together. He _had_ to hold it together for no other reason than his own peace of mind. That, and if he fell apart he would never be able to tell his wife, Catherine, what had happened. If he failed then, he would never forgive himself.

The two doctors left the ICU waiting room so Agent Reeves took the lead. "Colby's in Room # 12. Agent Eppes, our boss, is sitting with him."

Gareth nodded. Best to get this over with quick.

She led the way to the ICU and pointed out the right room. "Could you tell Agent Eppes that I need to speak with him?"

"Certainly and thank you." Gareth told her.

She offered him a smile in response.

He approached the door to his son's room and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to see. Gareth eyed the man sitting next to his boy and wished he were meeting the man under more pleasant circumstances. He swallowed and walked into the room. He watched as the man looked up, saw him, put his book away and addressed CeeJay as if he could actually hear him. "Hey, Colby, you've got a visitor."

"Agent Eppes? I'm Gareth Granger, Colby's dad."

The man stood, approached Gareth and held out his hand. "Mister..." Don stopped when he saw the insignia on his uniform collar. "…_Chief_ Granger. Don Eppes."

Gareth ran a quick eye over the man as he shook hands with him. Agent Eppes was tired, bone tired. He could just see it in the way the younger man held his body, all stiff-like, but Gareth also picked up a flash of frustration in Don's eyes. Or was it pain? Lord knew there'd never been a hospital visitor's chair that was actually comfortable to sit in for extended lengths of time. "Agent Eppes, thanks for looking after my boy. And for doing what I would be doing if I'd been here from the start."

"You're welcome. But it's nothing I wouldn't have done for any of my team or them for me." Don replied.

Gareth nodded and approached the bedside of his son, still not prepared for how his youngest looked. He swallowed again. He had never seen CeeJay so still, so utterly lifeless and hooked up to a bunch of machines. His sadness turned to a white-hot anger. If the Bureau didn't take care of the scum that had done this, he would and no one would ever find the body.

"I heard you reading to him like he could hear you... that takes a special kinda faith. For that, I thank you." He picked up Colby's unencumbered hand and gave it a light squeeze. There was no answering squeeze back. "You hear that, CeeJay? The old man is admitting he's got faith."

Don swallowed visibly. "Sir, it's either been myself or Agent David Sinclair, Colby's usual partner on the team, who's been sitting here with him and... Well, we've all talked to him. It's a good way to keep from worrying too much about him."

Gareth nodded and looked at the book Agent Eppes had placed on the table. "'A History Of Crime And Punishment In America'? Good read. One I've been after CeeJay to read…now maybe he will."

"You've spoken with his doctors?" Don asked.

Gareth nodded again as he looked over his shoulder at Don. "Yes. Agent Reeves told me the main suspect is in custody."

Don half-smiled. "Yes, I am happy to say that's true."

"Just do me and CeeJay a favor will ya?" Gareth asked Don, who nodded for him to finish his thought. "Nail the person who did this to the proverbial wall."

Don did smile then. "It will be a pleasure, sir."

"Good." Gareth caught sight of movement near the nurse's station behind Don and remembered. "Oh, Agent Reeves wanted to talk to you, she's waiting for you out there."

Don turned and, sure enough, Megan was standing by the massive desk used by the ICU staff. "I'll be right back, sir."

"No rush, Agent Eppes, I'm not going anywhere until my son's out of this place."

Gareth watched as Agent Eppes approached Agent Reeves then pulled the chair Don had abandoned closer to Colby's bedside. He released his son's hand long enough to sit down, then reached under the side rail to grasp his hand again.

"Colby James...you fight this, you kick this thing in the ass like the trooper you are. I'll be here waiting when you wake up."

* * *

Don was only too happy to leave Colby in the care of his father. He just knew Chief Granger really wanted some alone time with his son. "What have you got, Reeves?" He asked approaching Megan.

"We've got her Don." Megan said, a triumphant light shinning in her eyes. "I put her in the squad car myself."

"MacPherson? The evidence is solid? I don't want her walking on this."

"She had the bottle of arsenic sitting in the kitchen cabinet, plain as day."

Don blinked, and then shook his head. Most criminals weren't rocket scientists, but most weren't stupid enough to leave incriminating evidence within easy view. "She's at the office now, right? Stewing until we can talk with her?"

Megan smiled a terrible smile. "Of course. Although, we might want to keep David away from her, for the moment."

Don returned the wicked grin. "Or we could let him loose on her. Just make sure he leaves his gun in his desk first." He turned to gesture toward Colby's room and the two men within. "I promised Chief Granger that we'd nail the person who did this. I don't care how we hammer her as long as Hattie is good and nailed."

Megan nodded, looking over Don's shoulder to Colby's room. "I don't mind telling you that when Chief Granger appeared on Colby's doorstep this morning, I about went through the ceiling." She reached over and squeezed Don's shoulder. "We got her and we got her good. I think we may even have a reason, if you want to call it that, for what she did but I'm not quite sure on that part."

"Really? Tell me. Give me something I can tell Chief Granger."

Megan ran a hand through her hair. "The techs found a laptop but I don't know what's on it."

"You heading back to the office now?" Don asked, his mind racing.

She nodded.

"You tell the techs to drop everything - on my orders - and tell them to rip that laptop open. If MacPherson did this on purpose, then there's a damn good chance she wrote her plan down and I want it."

"You got it. Tell Colby I said hi. I'll be back later to see him." Megan said and she was gone.

Don stayed outside of Colby's room for a few minutes, trying to organize his thoughts, before stepping back inside. "Chief?" Colby's father looked over to him. "Sir, I think we may know why this happened to Colby in a few hours."

"Thank you, Agent Eppes."

Don winced. "Please, call me Don. I hear 'Agent Eppes' and I start wondering what the hell I did wrong." He smiled, hoping the Chief would hear the humor in his voice.

"Okay, then it's only fair you call me GiGi, Don. Can you watch him for just a few more minutes? I've been getting some rude stares from the woman who's visiting Room Three over there. So, I'm going to change clothes and be right back."

Don nodded. "Certainly Chief-- GiGi. And for the woman in Room Three, well, she's been giving all of us the eye. It's not just you."

"One of those, huh?" Chief Granger's expression twisted into one of disgust. "Oh well, I fought in the Army, and on the streets of Boise, to protect her rights to bitch. Might as well stop by and be friendly."

Don quirked an eyebrow. "Just be careful. You put out a hand and she might bite. I've been told that Agent Sinclair had words with her earlier."

GiGi shrugged.

Don watched as he stopped by Room Three, pushing his light jacket back to show off his sidearm and held a five-minute, seemingly one-sided conversation with the woman, who turned pale, then green.

"Colby...your father's pretty cool." Don said, after GiGi walked out of the ICU.

A few minutes later, Granger Senior was back in Colby's room, dressed in jeans, a tight fitting black tee shirt that hid nothing and his lightweight jacket. He had removed his duty belt, but Don couldn't help but notice the tale-tell bulge of a holstered sidearm under the jacket on the Chief's hip.

"I'm heading back to the office, GiGi but I'll be back later. So will David, Agent Sinclair. If you need anything… let me give you my cell phone number."

GiGi nodded and waited for Don to scribble the number down on the nearest piece of scratch paper. He glanced at the number when Don handed it to him and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans.

They shook hands again and Don left, leaving the book for Granger's dad to read, no sense in letting Colby miss out on the really juicy bits about Colonial Punishments. He was tempted to ask the Chief what he'd said to Mrs. Von Husen but decided he really didn't want to know. He had a suspect to break and he had to decide the best way to do that without actually breaking out the thumbscrews.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 6**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

Looking at Megan as she slumped against the glass of the observation room, barely able to hold herself upright, Don felt his own fatigue creeping across his shoulders. "Neither one of us is physically able to handle this interview, are we, Reeves?" 

She gave him a tired smile. "We're going to have to, Don. You really want to put David in there with her?"

Don tossed a look at the woman on the other side of the glass. "No, but we really don't have a choice. Right now, handling a three-year old, let alone a possible psychotic, poisoning bitch from Hell would be beyond my abilities."

Megan blinked, her shoulders slumping after a few seconds of thought. "Oh, Hell, you're right. If I went in there..."

"You wouldn't ask any questions, you'd just backslap her into next week." Don quipped.

She smiled. "The term is 'bitchslap,' and it wouldn't be just into next week either."

Don grinned in return, saying, "Yeah, I know. Just checking to see if you'd catch it."

He looked out into the bullpen just in time to see David coming into the area looking disgustingly fresh.

"Well, at least one of us is coherent." Megan said. "You want to tell him or should I?"

Taking a few steps on none-too-steady legs, Don opened the door to the room and called out for David to join them. "Sinclair, over here."

David turned and headed for the Observation room. His eyes widened when he saw Megan and Don. "Did I look that bad?"

Don leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. "I dunno... do we look like a vulture wouldn't touch our carcasses?"

David nodded.

"Then, yeah, you looked this bad when I sent you home. You see why I said I needed you at the top of your game?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"You're welcome, and you can return the favor right now." Don pointed with a lazy hand over his shoulder at the prisoner behind him in the interrogation room, it was too much effort to point. "We got her. You get to talk to her."

David walked into the observation room, his eyes going wide when he saw who Don was talking about. "When did this happen?"

Megan checked her watch. "About seven this morning."

David looked down at his watch. It was close to Noon. Hattie had been sitting there for well over four hours. He smiled. "Okay. Not a problem. You staying to watch?"

"Yeah, like I'd miss this." Don said.

"Go get her, Tiger. I wouldn't miss this for the world." Megan patted David on the arm as he brushed by her.

Don handed David the file on Harriet MacPherson. "Here, read this - at least glance over it - before you go in there. It's not pretty but you need to know what we found out."

David nodded. Forewarned was forearmed. "Who collared her?"

"I did," Megan replied. "Just as Granger's father showed up at the scene."

David looked up from the file. "Colby's dad's here?"

Don nodded. "Yeah, he was coming to town on another matter, met Megan at Granger's place and found out his son had nearly died. Some welcome to Los Angeles, huh? He's with Colby right now or I wouldn't be here."

David processed that little piece of information and stored it away. "Did she say anything?" He asked Megan.

"Mad Hattie?" Megan indicated the old woman.

David grinned. "You just think of that?"

The Behaviorist shook her head. "No, but wait til you talk to her ... you may just agree."

He snorted. "So, no protestations of innocence? Nothing like that? Maybe she really is crazy." He glanced back down at the file, skimming over the lab reports and photos.

Megan shook her head, clearing it of the very vivid memory of Hattie protesting her innocence and her declaration of love for Colby. "Just the usual protests, she wouldn't - she loves him, that sort of thing. Made my skin crawl."

"Okay." He looked back through the window at Hattie, the very picture of innocence, her back ramrod straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "You think she's all there?"

"Maybe. I'm really not sure. I wouldn't be able to make a sound judgment call on her anyway." Megan gave up trying to stay on her feet, and slid into a chair that Don, somehow, had intuited that she needed. "Thanks, Eppes. David… play her like you think she's all there, that she's really innocent and see what happens."

Don made noises of agreement. "If that fails, treat her like a nut."

David swallowed a laugh. "Got it. Then you'll both go and get some sleep, right?"

"Yeah... Go get started. I'm going to make a few phone calls and make arrangements for one of our psychologists to take a look at her once we get her shipped to County." Don left the small observation room and headed toward his desk.

David looked at Megan, the exhaustion just rolling of her in waves. "You going to be able to stay awake for this?" He put a hand on her shoulder.

"You bet ... I'll just grab another cup of sludge from the coffee maker before I go home." She looked up at him with a not quite awake smile.

He quirked an eyebrow. "You really want to do that? Why not make it easier on yourself and just go play in the traffic on the 405?"

"I don't want to. Don took away my spare clips, anyway." Megan pouted.

"Then I should probably take them from him." He replied. He paused, and then added, "Thank you."

"For what?" Megan blinked at David, looking rather like a startled owl.

"For keeping me from making an ass of myself at the hospital and making me eat."

"Oh, that ... you'd do the same for me, right?"

"Sure, of course. But it couldn't have been easy. All I wanted to do was track down the bastard that had done it and rip his head off."

She shook her head and waved him on to the interview just as Don came back in and handed her a fresh cup of coffee, doctored just the way she liked.

"Sinclair ... be _nice_." Don admonished the young agent.

David smiled a truly evil smile. "Of course. I wouldn't be any other way."

"This is going to be good." Megan said, looking after David and sipping at her coffee.

"I just hope we don't have to rush in there and pull him off her. Not that I'm capable of any fast movements right now." Don sipped his own cup. "Not that I'd hurry to get in there if he were killing her--"

Megan was too tired to admonish Don. Hell, she agreed with him.

He pulled another chair out from under the recording console, hit a few buttons as David walked into the interrogation room, and watched as the screens in front of him and Megan lit up. "We need to record this ... for the court and for Colby." He quietly explained when Reeves sent him a sidelong glance.

She nodded and sipped her coffee.

David's voice came through loud and clear. "Mrs. MacPherson, I'm Agent David Sinclair."

* * *

David walked into Interrogation Room One, determined not to let his personal feelings about the woman in the front of him interfere with the case at hand.

"Mrs. MacPherson, I'm Agent David Sinclair."

"Hello, Agent Sinclair." Hattie said, sitting up straighter in her chair.

Don had told him to ...be nice... and he certainly wasn't about to muck up anything that Hattie MacPherson might say but, damn, it was tempting to think about just strangling the crazy bitch there and be done with it.

He sat down across the table, opened the folder in his hands and took out several 8x10 pictures. "Ms. MacPherson, do you know the reason why you were brought here?" As he laid each photo down on the table between himself and Hattie, he noticed how her eyes locked on the ones of Granger's apartment.

"Yes," Hattie replied. "Agent Reeves told me I was a suspect in the poisoning of Colby ... but I would never do that. He's too dear to me."

"Ma'am ... then how do you explain this?" He pointed to the picture of the bottle of arsenic found in Hattie's kitchen.

Her trill of laughter sent chills down David's spine. "Oh, that! Agent Sinclair, I use that to make my own special brand of rat bait. Works much better than the commercial crap you find on the market and isn't nearly as bad for the environment."

David nodded. "So, would it surprise you to learn that the macaroni and cheese that Agent Granger consumed three days ago was laced with it?"

"It was? I have no idea how that would've happened. Oh dear..."

"Yes, ma'am." Calling Hattie '_ma'am_' made David's stomach turn but he put his feelings aside and pushed ahead.

"Not only was the arsenic found in the macaroni and cheese but in some soup which was also consumed by Agent Granger."

The knowing smirk that crossed Hattie's face made David's hand itch to reach out and slap the old bat. "Guess I should just confess now, right, hmm, Agent Sinclair?"

David schooled his face into neutrality. "Ms. MacPherson, the sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner we'll be rid of each other."

"And what, exactly, do you need 'sorted out', Agent?"

"How exactly the arsenic from your apartment got into the food that was eaten by Agent Granger. Do you realize what the sentence is for the attempted murder of a federal agent?"

Hattie rolled her eyes and sat up even straighter. "Oh, yes. I know." She sighed and said "Guess I didn't use enough or he'd be dead already. As for how the arsenic got into dear Colby's food ... I'm pretty sure a smart young man like you has already figured that out. Haven't you?"

David frowned but said, "Yes. What I don't understand is why."

"Research." Hattie said, as if that explained everything.

"Research? For what?" Now David was well and truly confused. What was Hattie up to?

"Do you really need me to spell it out for you, Agent … may I call you David?"

"No, you may not. And yes, you really do need to spell it out for me. It's been a really long day."

"My, we're snippy when we're being so righteous." Hattie leaned forward, not enough to make David lean back away from her, but enough to make him a little paranoid. And she was smiling that damnable smile again! "It started out as an accident..."

David quirked an eyebrow. "An accident?"

Hattie nodded. "I had made a batch of the rat bait and thought I had cleaned everything up before making a batch of brownies, but I must have missed something. Next thing I knew, dear Colby was sicker than a dog and I realized that the Internet wasn't revealing nearly enough about arsenic poisoning and here was the perfect opportunity to actually watch a case progress!"

"But why?"

Hattie went on as if David hadn't said a word. "So I added a bit more to the next batch of goodies I made, and a bit more after that--" She leaned back, blinking like an owl. "What were we talking about again, dear?"

"Why would you want to watch someone be poisoned?"

"Oh heavens! I wouldn't _want_ to do it … I _had_ to do it. Research, you know?"

That was the second time she had said that. "Research for what?"

"My novel. What else? Do I look like a screenwriter to you?"

David swallowed the remark that threatened to leap out of his mouth. "Okay but why Agent Granger? He helped you out. I personally know that he put together a bookshelf for you, among other things. Of all people, why him?"

"He was handy. I didn't have to go far to find him and he's such a doll!" Hattie smiled.

For once in his career, David was speechless but he managed to recover enough to ask, "Your novel's a mystery?"

Hattie nodded and leaned forward, whispering, "You know, if you had dropped by just a bit more often, you could've been a part of the novel too."

David swallowed. "Well, some things are not meant to be."

"Alas, how true is that? I was wondering ... how is dear Colby? Will he be all right?"

A knock on the glass behind him made him turn around. He saw Don motioning to him. He nodded and started to collect the photos, putting them back in the folder. He stood and left.

Behind him, Hattie had the last word. "Young people today, no respect. Unlike Colby ... he was raised proper. HE would've excused himself from a lady's presence, not just left."

David had to actually fight the urge to go back in and give the crazy bat a real piece of his mind but Don's hand settled on his shoulder and he didn't.

Megan was standing next to Don. She nodded toward Hattie, "That one is going for the diminished capacity plea in a hurry. She'll probably get it too."

"Crazy bitch." David muttered.

"You got that right." Don replied.

"I'll call County Hospital and see if they have her bed ready." Megan volunteered as she glared one last time at Harriet MacPherson through the glass. "Damn loon will probably convince all the docs there that she's nuts and she'll do her time at the State Mental Hospital instead of prison."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Don growled. He looked at David and said, "You did really well. You didn't strangle her."

"Not because I didn't want to, Don. I really could see myself doing the old bat in and not even fretting over it." David said.

"What stopped you?"

"You, Megan and Colby."

Don grinned.

And so did Megan. "Colby will delighted to learn he's had such a positive effect on you." She said, just before a giant yawn split her face.

"Finish up what you're doing so you can go and get some sleep." Don told her before heading off in the general direction of the break room.

"The last thing you need is more coffee." Megan called after him. Don waved in a hand in her direction. A few minutes later, Don had not returned, making Megan look at David. This was how it had all started with Colby. Maybe Mad Hattie had gotten to Don too.

Megan shook her head. _Lack of sleep is making you leap to conclusions that aren't there. _Lack of sleep or no, when another few minutes ticked past and still no Don, she was on the verge of asking David to check the bathroom. Then Larry, her boyfriend, appeared almost as if by magic. One minute, he wasn't there, the next he was. She looked up at him and blinked. "Larry? What are you doing here?"

"I came to pick you up, my fair lady." Larry replied. "I know you've had a long couple of days and are not fit to drive."

She frowned and eyed him. "How did you know I'd be here?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "It's 12:30 P.M. on a Friday, where else would you be but at work? I saw Don on my way up, he asked me to tell you both to head home."

Megan and David look at each other. "So, that's why we haven't seen him in the last few minutes, the sneaky bastard." Megan muttered.

"Megan, I brought the '31, let me take you home and I promise to have you back here as soon as you want in the morning." Larry held out a courtly arm to Megan, looked at her with those sad puppy dog eyes of his and she was toast.

David swallowed the laugh that threatened to come out. He cleared his throat and addressed the quirky professor. "Larry, just get her home ... I have a few more reports to start and then I'm heading over to the hospital to check on Colby."

"Right this way." Larry said to Megan. "Your chariot awaits."

Megan saved her notes and shut down the computer. "Sir Lawrence, thank you ... but you're aren't getting away that easy. Wild card night." Larry looked startled. "Please? I really need it." Much to David's surprise, the physicist blushed as he nodded and the two lovebirds walked toward the elevators arm in arm.

"I don't want to know, I don't want to know, I don't want to know." David chanted to himself, forcefully putting from mind any images of Megan and Larry and-- "Talk about an odd couple, but they really do suit each other." He finished up his last line of the report and saved the document.

He stretched and looked around the bullpen, a slow smile crossing his face. Inspiration had just struck. He was going to pull a 'Don Eppes' on Don. After opening the Outlook directory on his computer and locating the number he needed, he reached for the phone and dialed a number.

"Alan? It's David Sinclair. No sir, everything's just fine. We just arrested the person who poisoned Colby. Yes, we are all quite happy about that. No, Don has disappeared from the office. I think he went back to the hospital to check on Colby. Yes, I'm pretty sure he's not gotten much sleep either. Gardena Medical Center ICU. All right. See you there. Bye."

He hung up, chuckling to himself. Don would never know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 7**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

**Day Five, Part Two**

When Colby woke up early Friday afternoon, he was terribly confused. He heard his father's voice but didn't know why. He turned his head just a fraction and saw his dad sitting in a chair, reading a book aloud.

_Huh?_

Colby's eyes moved from his father and across the ceiling of the room he was in. He wasn't at his parents' house in Idaho and he wasn't in his apartment, so where the Hell was he? And what was this _thing_ sticking down his throat. Whatever it was and however it had gotten there, it had to come out and _NOW_!

He tried taking it out himself but he couldn't. He could hardly move, that fact only adding to his rising panic. Someone else would have to take it out but…. His eyes darted back across the room to his dad, still reading the book. If he could get his father's attention, then _he _could take it out but Colby would have to get his attention first. He couldn't yell because of that _thing_ so, now what? He slapped the bed with both hands and hoped he had made enough noise.

He had. Gareth Granger's head popped up from the book, a beatific smile on his face. "CeeJay! If you aren't a sight for sore eyes!" He then noticed the look of utter panic on his son's face and climbed to his feet. "I'm on it. Just try and relax, son."

_Relax? He wants me to relax? With the fucking Alaskan Pipeline stuffed down my throat?_ Colby wondered if his father had taken leave of his senses.

Gareth came back a moment later with an older woman with graying hair and kind eyes wearing maroon scrubs.

"Agent Granger, how nice to see you awake." She said to Colby, walking around his bed to the machine on the other side of it. "I'll get that nasty tube out of you right quick."

Gareth took Colby's hand in his. "Don't fight it, son. Just relax. It'll be out in a moment."

_Easy for you to say, Dad._

"All right, Agent Granger," the nurse said. "I'm going to take the tube out now. I'm going to ask you to cough and then I'll remove it. Okay?"

Colby nodded. He would do anything to get that _thing_ out of him!

"Now, cough." The nurse told him.

He did and the tube was gone. _Hallelujah!_

"Much better, hmm?" she asked him.

He nodded.

Okay, getting that tube out solved one problem. Now, he had to figure out where he was and what his father was doing there, looking like _he'd been ridden hard and put away wet_, to quote a family friend.

"Dad?" he asked, surprised at the roughness of his own voice. He sounded like Clint Eastwood with a sore throat.

"Yes, CeeJay?"

"Can I get something to drink?" He'd get the weird taste out of his mouth and then figure out what happened.

Gareth looked at the nurse, who was putting away the respirator.

"I'll get you some ice chips, Agent Granger." She said. "If you can handle that, I'll get you some real water."

Colby nodded.

Gareth settled back into the chair next to the bed and fixed his youngest with a _look_. "CeeJay, it's good too see you awake. Now maybe you'll listen to the old man the next time he tells you 'you sound like crap, go see a doctor'."

Colby blinked. "Is that why you're here?" His eyes darted around the room again. "And where exactly is_ here_?"

"Gardena Hospital, and I'm here because I stopped by your place to see you and ran into the lovely Agent Reeves who was kind enough to tell me where you were."

Colby grinned. "She's cute, isn't she? Damn shame, she's already spoken for." A frown replaced the grin. "What was Megan doing at my place?"

"Arresting someone in connection with your poisoning."

"Poisoning? Me? What?" Colby felt more than a few steps behind the world at that moment.

Gareth leaned forward, placing his hand on his son's arm. "Yeah, poisoning. Some sort of heavy metal, if Reeves' information was correct."

Colby blinked again. That seemed about all he was capable of doing. What the hell was going on? He lay down to get some sleep and woke up in a hospital? What the fuck had happened to him? And what was his father doing there? He was the Police Chief of Cascade, Idaho. He couldn't just drop everything and come down to L.A. whenever he felt like it!

"You drove twelve hours down here just to see me?"

"No. Well, yes, but that wasn't the sole reason I headed down this way." Gareth looked into his son's eyes, concerned by the confusion he saw lurking in their depths. "CeeJay, just how much do you remember of the last couple of days?"

"Uh…."

"When I last spoke with you, you told me you had a stomach virus and not to worry. I told you I'd be down here shortly ... do you remember that?"

Colby blinked, licked his lips and thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a phone conversation was floating around; he just couldn't quite catch it. "I kinda remember it."

Gareth smiled at him. "Don't strain your brain, son. If you remember that's good. If not--" He shrugged. "The doctors told me you may regain the memories from when the poisoning was the worst, but if you don't, I'll be happy for you." He leaned back in his chair before continuing. "As for why I came down here ... do you remember Jerred Oldsmith? I think he graduated from the high school the same year you got your home school diploma."

Colby slowly nodded. Jerred had always been a couple of beers short of a six-pack, at least as far as he could remember.

"Well, over the last few years, Jerry's been getting dumber - though I didn't think that was possible - and Sheriff Leon Leland and I could finally place a bunch of B & E's on his doorstep. Just as we got the warrant to pick him up, the slippery sonuvabitch disappeared. Care to guess where he turned up?"

"He came down here?"

Gareth nodded.

Colby smiled. He knew what his father was talking about and he was able to follow the conversation but it was like his brain was wrapped in cotton. It was hard to think. "So, how'd you find him?"

"Didn't. LAPD did. Public Drunkenness. They ran him through NCIC and the warrants from Valley County, as well as mine, popped up. They're holding him until I can pick him up and haul his butt back to Cascade."

"So, that means you'll be heading back with him soon?"

Gareth nodded. "Yes, and you're coming with me. If I show up without you, especially after this, your mother may well banish me to the shed for the rest of our natural lives."

Colby frowned. "You told Mom?" The last thing he wanted to do was upset his mother.

"I kinda had to Colby James. You made the national news. Hell, Cliff heard about it and he's deployed in the Persian Gulf." Gareth said, with no real heat in his voice.

Colby sighed. "Bet she's pissed at me."

"Nope. Not at all. However, I think it might be safer for all concerned if we keep her as far away from your poisoner as possible."

That brought a smile to Colby's face. His mother had always been a bit on the _protective_ side.

Gareth picked up the bedside phone and handed it to Colby. "Call your mother. I told her you would call the moment you woke up."

Colby took the phone from his father. He started to dial but paused and looked at Gareth for a moment.

"What's wrong, CeeJay?" Gareth asked.

"Everyone knows?" Colby asked. He had three other brothers, none of whom would probably ever let him forget scaring their mother.

Gareth nodded. "Everyone knows."

"Man, Cliff is gonna kick my ass." Colby said.

"Cliff isn't the one you need to fret about ... Lars is."

Colby heaved another sigh and dialed the number he knew by heart. The phone was answered on the first ring.

_"Hello?" _His mother had that _Go-away-I'm-expecting-an-important-phone-call_ tone in her voice

"Yeah, Mom, it's me."

_"Colby! Baby!"_ Catherine "Cat" Granger all but shouted into the phone.

"I didn't scare you too much, did I?" Colby asked. His mother had a bad back and the less excitement for her, the better.

_"No, not really." _

"Dad told me I made the national news and not in a good way either."

Cat Granger chuckled_. "That's right. Just be thankful that by the time the news broke, your dad had already found you and was able to ease my worries." _He heard his mother's voice hitch as she took a breath. _"I would drive my old Chevy down there at warp speed to be with you, no matter what that would do to my back. You know that, right?"_

Colby snorted. It wouldn't do for him to start sobbing over the phone. "Yeah, Mom, I know that."

_"Good. Because it gets worse, you young snot. Your eldest brother offered to drive me down there if I needed to go."_

"Lars? He can't come down here. I'll never hear the end of it if he does."

Cat Granger snorted. _"You wanna bet? I heard he was doing the best he could to clear or reassign his cases yesterday so he could get out to LA to 'talk some sense into my baby brother'." _

Colby sat up or at least he tried, his muscles screamed in protest, forcing a groan from his mouth.

_"Colby, what's wrong? Where's your father?"_

"Nothing, Mom. Dad's right here. I'm just a bit sore, that's all."

_"You sure? You don't sound good."_

Colby laughed, but all that came out was a raspy wheeze. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure." Damn if he didn't ache all over. "Mom, you've got to convince Lars not to come down here." The last thing he needed was his big brother standing there making him feel like a ten year old all over again, telling embarrassing stories to everyone.

_"Oh, don't worry... I've always known that that phrase was Lars code for beating you senseless. I talked him out of doing anything. For now."_

Her threat left hanging in the air, Colby started to breathe again. "Don't do that to me, Mom."

_"I won't, if you promise me the next time I hear your name on the news it's because you've been named Director of the FBI."_

"Yes, ma'am. I promise."

_"Good. Now, how are you feeling and don't try to buffalo me."_

"Like death warmed over."

_"Not funny, Colby James. You know I haven't been this worried about you since you were nine and took that tumble from the loft in the barn. Don't lie to me."_

Colby frowned. "What do you want me to say, Mom? I feel like Hell."

Cat sighed. _"Oh baby, I don't mean to push but…well, your father did say... No, never mind me. I'm just being silly."_

Colby looked at his father. "What, Mom? What did Dad say?"

The silence on the other end was deafening, but if Colby strained his hearing, he thought he could hear his mother trying not to cry. "_Colby... it was close. Real close according to the doctors…I…I almost lost my baby boy."_

_Oh, great._ Colby thought. _Now, Lars really is really gonna to kick my ass for making Mom cry._

Just then, over the line, he heard a very familiar voice call out. _"Momma? Momma what's wrong?"_ And then Colby was listening to Lars on the phone. _"Dad? What is it? Is CeeJay all right?"_

_Oh, this just gets better and better for me._ "Hi, Lars." Colby said.

_"CEEJAY! Damn, no wonder Momma broke down. You sound like shit, bro."_

"Feel like it too." It took Colby a moment to realize that Lars was not were he was supposed to be. "What are you doing in Cascade? You work in Billings."

_"Let's see... Dad's down there with you, Mom needed support, I'm the closest and could get here the quickest. Just in case..." _Lars left the sentence hanging, but Colby didn't need him to say anything further. His brother had dropped everything to be by his mother's side, just in case he had died.

Just what in the Hell had happened?

"Yeah, well...I'm not going anywhere yet. You can go back to Billings now."

_"Yeah, right. After all the work I did to shove my cases off on my underlings? Nope. I'm going to take the whole damn week off and, if you don't start sounding better, I may just hop a flight down to see you in person. I haven't been to L.A. in ages." _

"Lars, no. You don't have to do that. I'll be fine."

_"Oh, I dunno, CeeJay,"_ Lars said, needling him. _"Might be worth it to come down there. Dad tells me one of your coworkers is 'hot'…his honest to God words, bro, not mine." _Colby could hear a smacking sound and Lars saying, _"Momma! I'm just repeating what Dad said!"_

That got a laugh from Colby. "Sorry, Lars...she's spoken for."

_"Really? Damn my luck. Mom wants to talk to you again. Take care of yourself, okay? Don't make me come out there." _

"Whatever, Lars."

_"Here's Mom. Bye."_

"Yeah, Mom?"

_"Colby, you get some sleep and tell your father I'm not coming down there unless he thinks I need to. Cliff's due back from deployment in June and is hoping to grab some leave time home in late July. I'd like to see all my boys in one place again, so think about that, will you?"_

"Yes, ma'am. You want to talk to Dad?"

_"Just for a moment. Get some rest, baby. I love you." _

"Yes, ma'am. I love you too." Colby handed the phone back to his father and tried to figure out what had happened.

Gareth hung up the phone a few moments and looked Colby. "When your mind is ready, it'll let you remember. Don't try and drag the memories out, you'll just make it worse."

Colby looked at his father and frowned. "Dad, don't take this the wrong way but you're not the one who doesn't remember how he got here."

Gareth chuckled. Colby would be fine; his wiseacre muscles were coming back to life.

A nurse breezed into the room just then with a cup of ice chips and a spoon, her name tag reading 'Abby'. "Here you go Agent Granger." She put the cup and the spoon on a rolling table and slid it over to the bed. Gareth got up and moved the chair out of the sway. "Your partner will be thrilled to see you awake."

Colby looked at her, then at his father. "Don?"

She shook her head. "Agent Sinclair." At the look of utter confusion on Colby's face, she said "It's okay, if you don't remember, it'll come back, really. Now, just suck on the ice chips for a while. If you can handle that, then we'll see about getting you some juice or something like that." She checked the machines around Colby and left.

Colby looked down at the cup of ice then up at his father, then around the room. What was going on? What the Hell had happened? Why couldn't he remember anything? He hadn't been this confused or frustrated since he was kid.

Gareth slid the chair back over and sat down. He put his hand on Colby's arm and squeezed it gently. "Son, I know you're confused but that'll pass. You just have to let it go and know that when it's time, the memories will come back. Can you do that for me? Just let it go for now?"

Colby nodded. If his father said that the memories would come back, they would. He took a couple of deep breaths and nodded again.

Gareth smiled. "Good man. Now, try eating that ice without dumping it down your front."

As luck would have it, Colby's mouth was full of ice when Don came into the room, looking like twenty miles of bad road.

"Now this is more like it." Don said. "How are you feeling, Colby?"

Colby swallowed, made a face and said, "Like I've been run over by a dump truck."

Gareth couldn't help but snicker.

"GiGi." Don said, shaking hands with him.

"Don." Gareth returned the greeting.

"How long have you been up?" Don asked Colby.

Colby blinked and took his time answering. "Not too long."

Gareth nodded.

Colby fixed Don with a look and asked, "What happened? Dad told me someone tried to poison me but that's all he said."

Colby's question seemed to prick some invisible barrier around Don and the weariness seemed to just ooze right out of him. He sat down the edge of Colby's bed and nodded. "Your dad's right. Only they weren't just trying, they came pretty damn close."

Colby blinked. "Who'd I piss off this time?"

Don gave him a tired smile. "Before I get to that, let me ask you something else."

"Okay."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

That wasn't quite the question Colby had been expecting. He frowned. "I remember calling you early in the morning but I don't remember the day."

Don nodded. "That was Wednesday. 4 A.M.Wednesday."

Colby grimaced. "Sorry."

"That's all right. Is that the last clear memory you have?" It was important to get Colby's view of the events in the off chance Hattie's case went to trial.

Colby thought, then nodded, slowly. He looked at his dad and said, "I called you Dad, for our weekly talk, didn't I?"

Gareth shook his head. "No, son, I called you. That was Tuesday."

"You called me?"

Gareth nodded.

"Then how long have I been here?" Colby asked. He shifted around in the bed and grimaced. "It feels like I've been here for a while."

Gareth exchanged a look with Don. "It's Friday afternoon, Colby." Don said, gently. "You've been out of it since probably early Thursday morning."

"I didn't call Thursday?"

Don shook his head. "When I didn't see or hear from you, I sent Megan and David over to check on you and that's when they found you."

Colby swallowed, fear replacing the confusion. "I've been out for almost a day and a half?"

Don nodded.

Gareth put a hand on his son's shoulder. "It'll be all right, CeeJay. Don tells me that they caught the creature responsible."

Colby looked back at Don. "Who?"

Don took a deep breath and said, "The evidence is pointing at your neighbor, Harriett MacPherson."

"Hattie?!" Colby's eyes widened. "But she wouldn't..." he sputtered. "She ... she ... she helped me out ... she did my laundry ... she went to the store for me. She … she couldn't." He swallowed. "What evidence?"

"The leftover food in your kitchen tested positive for arsenic. Arsenic was found in her kitchen." Don paused, then added. "The ER doctor had your blood tested for toxic chemicals when you were brought in and the tests came back positive for arsenic." He stopped and let the information sink in.

Colby's mouth opened and closed several times. But nothing came out. Until, finally he was able to let out a tortured, "Why?"

"I don't know why, just yet. Her laptop was taken from her apartment and it looks like she was writing a mystery novel."

Chief Granger frowned.

"One of the characters in her novel is poisoned with arsenic." Don continued. "And from what I've read, Colby, that character matches your general physical description."

"Now wait just a damn minute." Chief Granger interrupted Don. "Are you saying that this crazy bitch was using my son as a guinea pig for her book?"

Don nodded. "Looks that way. Apparently, she wanted to see how long it would take for someone to be killed by arsenic and didn't want to get it out of a book or off the Internet."

"I ... but ... she..." Colby sputtered and came to a stop.

"Tell me, did she ever eat with you? Or did she just bring the food up to you?" Don asked. He knew he was dumping a lot on Colby, and awfully fast, a fact that he kept close in mind.

"Um..." Colby put a hand to his forehead and reality started to sink in. "She just brought the food up."

"Agent Granger, so nice to see you awake." A female voice from behind Gareth made everyone look. Rhonda Samuels, the nurse who had gotten David dinner the night before, came into the room. She introduced herself to Don and Gareth, and then turned back to Colby. "You're certainly looking better than you did last night." She said with a smile.

"I hope so." Colby replied.

Rhonda looked up at the heart monitor, looked at Colby and frowned. "Your heart rate's elevated."

"That's probably my fault." Don said. "I've been telling Colby what happened."

Rhonda nodded. "Well, I'm not going to tell you what you can or can not do, Agent Eppes... but if you wouldn't mind not over-exciting my patient until after Doctor Lambert does his neurological tests?"

Don had the good grace to look ashamed. "Certainly."

"I'll be at the nurse's station if you need anything." Rhonda said, then she left the room almost as quickly and quietly as she came in.

"Hey, I'll have you know that Charlie took it as a great personal offense that someone tried to do you in." Don told Colby in an attempt to lighten the mood in the room. "Something happens to me and nothing. Something happens to you? He's offended."

"Why? It's not his fault."

"Doesn't matter."

"Charlie?" Gareth asked. "That's your brother, right, Don? The whiz kid?"

Don eyed Colby for a moment before a smile crossed his face and he nodded. "You know, Colby, he considers you a friend and Charlie doesn't like it when someone comes after his friends. He doesn't quite know what to do but he's thinking on it."

Colby smiled. "Charlie's thinking, we're all in trouble now."

Gareth looked at his youngest, a frown on his face. "CeeJay, do you always debate with your boss like this?"

Colby nodded. "Pretty much, Dad."

Gareth looked down the bed at Don. "He was raised better you know. If he keeps this up, you have my permission and my assistance, if you need it, to drop kick this young pup's ass so he can remember who is the boss."

Don laughed. "Don't worry about it GiGi, he knows, don't'cha, Granger?"

Colby nodded.

"Don, there you are." Alan Eppes said, standing in the doorway, looking at Don. "You are, quite possibly, the hardest man in L.A. to find."

"Dad?" Don exclaimed, clearly beyond surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for my wayward son, the one who hasn't slept in over 24 hours and who went riffling through my laundry early this morning and took off with one of my better dress shirts without so much as a by-your-leave."

Don colored.

"The parental FBI grapevine was in full effect today and it let me know where you were." Alan continued as he nodded an absent 'hello' towards Colby and the Chief. "Tell me, Don, how did you manage to get over here without falling asleep?"

"I made do, all right?" Don replied.

Alan snorted. He looked past Don and the older man seated by the bed and took a good look at Colby. His eyes widened. "How are you feeling, Colby?"

"Like I don't know what all the fuss is about--"

"Fuss?! Colby, you nearly DIED!" Gareth snapped at him.

"Dad, that kinda comes with the job." Colby calmly told him. Looking at Alan, Colby decided he had best do one of his other duties. "Mister Eppes, I'd like you to introduce you to my father. Chief Gareth Granger, this is Alan Eppes."

"Alan Eppes? The Master of the Grill? _That _Alan Eppes?" Gareth stood and the two older men shook.

Alan chuckled. "Telling tales about me again, Colby?"

"It's not a tale if it's the truth, Mister Eppes." Colby smiled.

"What's with the 'Mister Eppes' thing? I thought I had you broken of that. It's Alan."

"Not in front of my father, Mister Eppes."

Alan quirked an eyebrow and smiled. "You were raised properly I see."

"CeeJay, if a man gives you permission to call him by his given name, then call him by it and to hell what anyone else thinks." Gareth told Colby. He looked at Alan. "Please, call me GiGi. My wife and I tried to raise CeeJay and his brothers right. I think we might have finally succeeded with him."

"How many do you have?" Alan asked.

"Four boys. Don is one of two?"

Alan nodded. "There's him and his younger brother, Charlie."

"And from what CeeJay has told me, no grandkids yet?"

"No. You?"

"Nope. You would think that I'd have better chances with four kids too."

"Don?" Colby turned to his boss.

"Yeah, Colby?"

"Shoot me. Please?"

"Only if you return the favor." Don countered, looking as embarrassed as Colby felt.

That got Gareth's attention. "No way. I told you, you were coming back with me so your mother can fatten you up again." He told Colby.

"That'll be up to the Bureau, Dad." Colby said, wondering why he had to explain something so simple to his father.

"Actually…" Don started to say but was interrupted by two very intense, but different reasons, Granger glares. "What? Colby, you are on medical leave as of now and until further notice. No ifs ands or buts." He looked at Gareth. "If you want, GiGi, the LA Director told me we could use his Bureau jet to get Colby as far as Boise once he's cleared for travel."

Gareth whistled. "My, my, my. You've got some friends in pretty high places down here, son."

Colby, clearly mortified by the attention, started to go red in the face.

"He's got to be feeling better." Don said. "I haven't seen him blush in months."

Gareth laughed and some of the weariness from the past two days disappeared but it wasn't all gone. Too many hours in a hospital chair had taken their toll on him and it showed.

"GiGi," Alan asked, "Do you have a place to stay here in L.A.?"

Gareth shook his head. "I was just about to ask for the name of a decent hotel near here."

"Dad, you can stay at my place." Colby offered. Humiliated that his father was even asking about a place to stay.

"No, I can't, CeeJay. Your place is still a crime scene, right Don?"

Don nodded.

"I've got the solution. You can stay at my house." Alan volunteered. "Well, it's not exactly //_my_//house any more. My son owns it now but I think I still have some influence over who can come and go."

Gareth looked at Don.

"Not me, Chief." Don said. "Charlie, the whiz kid."

Gareth nodded, still a little mystified.

"You should say yes, GiGi." Don told him. "You can shower, get some sleep, and have a meal that doesn't come out of a cafeteria."

"I wouldn't want to impose." Gareth said.

"You're not." Alan said. "Besides it'd be nice to have someone around for a couple of days who remembers when gas was twenty-six cents a gallon."

"I'm not that old," Gareth quickly responded with laughter coloring his tone. "All right. I'll take you up on your kind invitation, Alan."

"Just make sure Charlie isn't cooking." Colby said.

Gareth eyed him.

"It's all right." Alan said. "My youngest is not known for his cooking skills." He saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned. "Well, I'll be." He looked at the others in the room and said, "I'll be right back. Have to say 'hi' to someone."

Don followed his father's line of sight, it lead straight to Room #3 and Mrs. Von Husen. "Um … Dad?"

Alan looked back at his son. "Yes, Don?"

"That woman over there, in Room # 3 has been ... less than cordial to my team and to Chief Granger."

Alan looked across the way. "I'm sorry about that."

Don stopped Alan with a hand on his arm, "Dad ... do you know her?"

"If it's who I think it is, then I know her husband." Alan frowned. "What has she been doing?"

Don gave his father a fast update, which caused Alan to look at the Grangers, and the expression that crossed his face was a mixed bag of embarrassment and anger. "I'm going to go talk to Alfred, and if Kellie says anything to me, I'll just tell her I'm here visiting members of my family."

Don stood in the doorway to Colby's room and watched Alan cross the hallway and speak to the man in the bed. Mrs. Von Husen barely glanced at him. A few moments later, Alan returned. "Small world. I haven't seen Alfred in years. Can't say that he's the nicest guy but he's always been cordial to me. That wife of his though-- Never knew what he saw in her. I thought your mother was going to divorce me, or claw my eyes out, after she got stuck talking to Kellie at one of the annual City Hall Christmas Parties."

Don started to laugh but a huge yawn interrupted it.

"That's it ... Don, say 'nightie-nite' to your agent and his father, I'm taking your exhausted body home." Alan told him.

"Dad!" Don said, mortified.

Chief Granger let out a snort. "Now I see why you like Alan, CeeJay ... he's like your mother. Sorta."

Alan grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. Let me give you the address to the house. Then later, if you want, I can come back here and you can follow me over there."

Gareth started to wave his hand 'no' but thought better of it. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. I had to follow Agent Reeves over here this morning, this sprawling metropolis of yours is worse than Boise."

"Back in a moment." Alan said. He came back shortly with the house address written on a piece of scrap paper. "I also wrote down the house phone number as well the one to my cell phone. Whenever you're ready, GiGi, just holler."

Gareth nodded and tucked the piece of paper into the pocket of his jeans. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'll even fire up the grill for you." Alan replied, putting an arm around Don's shoulders. "Now, before I take this one home, is there anything specific you'd like?"

"Meat. Anything beyond that is up to the cook." Gareth said.

His answer earned another smile from Alan. "I like the way you think." He looked at Don. "Be nice if others would remember that."

"Dad ... make sure you get some veggies or Mom will kick your butt when you get home." Colby said, just before a yawn overtook him, which seemed to start a chain reaction around the room.

"And whose going to tell her if I don't? You?" Gareth asked his youngest in a playful tone.

"Maybe ... I might just have to when it comes time for me to head back here. You do realize that Mom's going to try, again, to talk me into either quitting the Bureau or requesting a transfer to an office closer to home after this? A little blackmail material on you might get you to support me instead of her this time around."

"You see what I've got to put with Alan?" Gareth asked, in mock frustration.

"Every day." Alan commiserated. "Come on, bed for you." He steered the now half-asleep Don out the door. "Remember," he poked his head back in the room, "Whenever you're ready, GiGi."

"I'll remember." Gareth replied.

"Dad, how did you know where I was?" Gareth and Colby could hear Don asking his father as they left the room.

"I'm a Dad. I know these things." Alan countered.

Colby did wonder how Alan had known where to find Don but his unspoken question was answered when David appeared in the doorway to his room, a huge grin on his face when he saw Colby was awake.

"Oh, man, you have no idea how good it is to see you up and talking!" David said, walking over to the bed and clasping hands with Colby.

"I'm beginning to." Colby answered. "Have you met my dad yet?"

David shook his head, just then taking note of the older man standing by the one visitor's chair in the room.

"Chief Gareth Granger, David Sinclair." Colby said. The two men shook hands.

"Chief Granger, it's a pleasure, sir."

"Please, call me GiGi. And thank you for sitting with my boy."

"Of course. You're welcome. And, it's David." David replied.

"Don's gonna kick your ass when he finds out you called Alan on him." Colby said, completely out of the blue.

"Don's been here then?" David asked. Colby nodded. "Good, it's worth the risk and I can tell Megan I did it as a favor for her. It all works out."

"A favor? Megan is gonna owe you a favor, what for?" Colby, who had been on the verge of falling asleep, was wide-awake now.

"Don called Larry behind Megan's back and arranged for him to come get her. Just like I did with him and Alan."

"Fleinhardt? Did he come in his car? What year is that car anyway?"

"I think it's a 1931 or maybe a '32." David said, looking over at Colby's dad, who had totally lost the thread of the conversation.

Gareth shook his head and waved a hand as if to say 'Don't stop because of me.'

"You know anything about 'wild cards' between her and Larry?" David asked Colby.

"No ... and I'm pretty sure I don't wanna know either!"

"And by the way, I never admitted to calling anybody." David said, innocence personified.

"Yeah, but how else would Alan know, and the exact hospital and Unit to boot?" Colby posited.

"He's a dad, he knows." Gareth volunteered. "Mothers aren't the only ones who just seem know things."

"Do fathers have eyes in the back of their heads too?" Colby asked.

"Yes." Gareth responded. "Which is how I know, in order to get the Christmas lights hung just so around the house back when you were ten, Lars hung you out the 2nd story window to fix them."

Colby shrugged. "Yeah, but it worked. Right?"

Gareth shook his head, and then looked at David, who was trying desperately not to laugh. "You see? Between this one and his brothers, it's a wonder I have any hair left."

"So he's always been like this? It's not just a recent thing?" David inquired, unable to resist the urge to screw with Colby.

"Nope. He has three older brothers who loved to mess with him."

"He's the baby of the family?" David asked.

"Yep, He's pretty much had continuous and strenuous self-defense training ... practically from birth."

"Dad, you really don't have to go through my entire childhood right now." Colby said, a touch defensive.

"Right. I've got a couple of days to bring up really embarrassing stuff. Too bad I don't have your baby photos. Although I suppose I could get your mother to Express Mail them down here." Gareth said, with a wink at David.

"DAD!!!!"

David fought off the urge to laugh and, instead, channeled the energy into an explanation of his actions with Alan Eppes about Don. "As for Megan owing me a favor? Let's just say that it's … it's just being a good teammate. You know, keeping the senior members of the team from crashing into a barricade on the highway or, worse, wiping out a bus full of kids, with their cars because they wore themselves out on a case?"

"Which case?" Colby still wasn't completely tracking.

David reached over and ruffled Colby's short hair. "Think about it, G-man."

After a few minutes of thought, it dawned on Colby. "Me? I'm the case?"

Gareth looked at David, "How about that? My youngest isn't the dumb one."

"Dad." Colby protested.

"What?"

Colby looked at back at David and finally let his curiosity reign. "Where's Hattie? Has she been locked up yet?"

"Yeah, County picked her up just before I came over here. She's at County Hospital for a psychological evaluation before being arraigned."

"Crazy bitch." Gareth muttered.

"Dad ... up until recently, she was very, very nice--" Colby stopped talking when two glares nailed him to the mattress. "Okay, right. Shut up."

"What was I saying about my youngest not being the dumb one?" Gareth said.

David bit his lip.

"Not one word, David, not a single word..." Colby waggled a finger toward his teammate.

"Me? I didn't say anything. I am totally innocent this time."

"Nice qualifier there, David." Colby said as he grinned wildly. "What I don't get is why. I mean I know what Don told me, about her supposed novel, but ... _why_?"

David looked at Gareth, and then back at Colby, then took a deep breath. "You want to know what she told me in the interview?"

He waited until both Colby and Gareth nodded their consent, then proceeded to tell them both about Harriet MacPherson's not-quite-but-close-enough-for-government confession. Afterwards, Gareth had to leave the room for a minute to collect himself and David worried that he'd just sent Colby into shock. He was white. Well, whiter than usual.

"Research?" Colby croaked.

_Oh, man ... I really should've just kept my mouth shut. _David thought. _Really._ "I probably should've held off on telling you, but there's a chance the newsies would find out and then you'd hear about it that way."

"No, man, it's better this way. Really." Colby said, his mind trying to process what David had just said.

"What about your dad? He seems to be taking this rather hard."

"I'll be fine, David." Gareth responded from the doorway, looking //_mad as a wet hen_// as David's grandmother would say.

"Can you hang around for a little longer, David? I have a phone call I need to make before Cat, Colby's mother, finds out via the town gossips or she will probably shoot my ass full of rock salt when I get home."

David swallowed a chuckle. "Sure, not a problem."

"Tell Mom to stop worrying." Colby called after his dad. "I'll be fine."

Gareth paused in the doorway and looked back over his shoulder at his son, "Yes, you will. And she'll be able to see that as soon as we get you home." He looked at David. "Of course, getting her to let loose of him long enough for him to escape to LA..."

David grinned. "We have our ways in the FBI."

"Yeah, I know and HRT might actually come in handy. Behave boys, I'll be back in a few minutes." The older Granger left the room, but not before both Agents saw him give a jaunty wave toward Mrs. Von Husen. The old harridan was standing like a statue outside of IC-11, next door to Colby's room, with a stunned expression on her face.

David saw her and gave her such a glare that she turned and scuttled back to IC-3 without so much as a backwards glance.

"David?" Colby asked, just seeing Mrs. Von Husen out of the corner of his eye. "That's not…?"

David looked at Colby then followed his friend's startled and haunted gaze back across the unit to IC-3. "No, man, that's just some crazy woman whose husband is in here as a patient. I promise you; Hattie is locked up and she's never getting out."

"Do they all go nuts at a certain age?" Colby groused

"I don't know and I'm not about to ask." David replied.

"Well, remind me to have any woman I date in the future undergo a serious psychological test."

"If you gotta do that, then you might as well sign up for a monastery."

"Nah ... didn't you read about that case in upstate New York? Some businessman went to a monastery retreat to relax, ended up getting followed by a stalker and the woman actually found her way into his room after dark." Colby told his friend. "The guy didn't complain immediately, but did raise a fuss the next morning."

"Do you take the case files home and read them?" David stared at Colby. "Where do you get this stuff?"

"Connections, David. Connections."

David groaned. "I'm going to hate myself for asking but why did he complain?"

"According to the reports?"

"Yeah."

"He woke up to find, and I quote, the 'ugliest damn woman' sleeping next to him."

David started to snicker, which rapidly grew into full out laughter, and he couldn't stop. He laughed until his stomach hurt and tears were rolling down his face. All the stress and worry he had been carrying around since finding Colby came out in the laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 8**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

**Day Five, part three**

That evening, Colby was deemed to be well on the road to recovery and getting out of the hospital. He was moved from the ICU to a regular room. His neurological tests had come back normal and even though his blood work still showed elevated levels of heavy metals, it was decided that he was no longer in immediate danger and could safely be removed from Intensive Care to the Medical Unit. Especially after the doctors found out there were elevated heavy metal contaminates in the ground water where Colby grew up and, as most rural families did, the Grangers had drank well water with no ill effects.

It was hard to say who was happier; the Granger men or Mrs. Von Husen at the prospect of Colby's discharge from ICU. The old bitter bat didn't even acknowledge Chief Granger's lively wave good-bye as he followed Colby's wheel chair out of the Intensive Care Unit. However, like all trips there were some bumps along the way. The foremost one being Colby's reluctance to stay in bed and rest. He was to remain in the hospital for another four, possibly five, days in order to regain his strength and just in case he had a relapse.

The first day out of ICU Colby was fine, he slept a lot and pretty much did what he was told. The second day was a whole different matter, at least for Gareth. Every time he turned around Colby was up, looking out the window, standing in the doorway, or even walking up and down the hall.

Gareth let it go for a good long while. He was simply happy to still have his son. But by the afternoon of the second day out of ICU, his patience had been worn out.

"Colby James Granger, if you don't get back in that bed, I'm handcuffing you to it." Gareth Granger barked at his youngest.

Colby scowled at his father. "And where am I going to go Dad?" He said. "I'm looking out the damn window. It's not like I can go anywhere."

"If you do not get back in that bed and behave, I am calling your mother and YOU can explain it to her." Gareth responded, pulling out the big guns.

Colby blanched and caved. "That's dirty pool, Dad." He muttered, climbing back into the bed.

"And?" Gareth replied. "I know you want to get out of here but you're going to have to suck it up and deal with it for the next three days, got it?"

Colby nodded. He understood but he didn't have to like it. However, in making his father happy, he made the floor nurses unhappy. They had noticed his ambulatory adventures and were quietly encouraging them, until he stopped.

"Agent Granger ... is there a reason you stopped haunting the halls? Did you get too tired?" One of the nurses asked Colby when she came to check his vital signs.

Colby looked at his father. "Nah, it was making my dad crazy. He threatened to call my mother."

"Well, unless you want to stay the full seven days that most poisoning patients have to stay. Getting up and moving is a good way to regain strength and get the last of the toxins out of your body." The nurse, Shelia, turned to Chief Granger, "He'll know when he needs to rest, his body will just scream 'enough' at him and he'll crawl back into bed and sleep."

Colby glared at his father. "I'll call Mom for you. I am NOT staying here any longer than absolutely necessary."

"You need to call her today anyway." Gareth shot back before turning back to Sheila. "What if this young'un's body decides to 'give out' on him when he's not near the room?"

She chuckled. "I guess you haven't noticed the strategically placed benches, chairs and wheeled conveyances scattered about the unit? Trust me, we're used to patients who push too hard, too fast and need to be 'rescued'."

Colby groused, "No more damn wheelchairs! I'll drag myself across the floor if I need to."

Shelia shook her head. "No, you won't. I refuse to have a patient of mine body-drag himself on the floors. You do that, I'll strap you to that bed and you can stay here for the next seven days. I will NOT trip over your carcass on my rounds."

She was all of five foot three inches and pure bulldog, even if she didn't look like she would weigh 100 pounds, fully clothed and dripping wet. She was a force to be reckoned with and Colby, for one, wasn't brave enough to tork her off.

Gareth chuckled. "I think she's got your number CeeJay."

"If she doesn't, I may give it to her before I'm discharged ... I like her!"

Sheila, who'd stepped out for a minute, poked her head back in at that comment. "Sorry, Granger ... I'm married and while you're cute, you're a little young for me."

Colby colored as his father howled with laughter.

* * *

"Megan, I'm just not sure that I should just barge in there with you. I mean, I know Colby, I like him, but his father is probably in there..." Dr. Larry Fleinhardt stood in the hallway of Gardena Medical Center and equivocated.

"Larry, I haven't been to see Colby since he was admitted. I'd like you to come with me. Besides, his father doesn't bite. He's quite nice actually." Megan said to him.

"Nice? Do you know the multitude of variances of personality that one word can cover?" Larry replied.

Megan sighed. Why had she thought it was good idea to have Larry come with her? She took his hand in hers. "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"I am. Fleinhardt, get in here and meet my father, will ya?" Colby announced his presence by standing in the doorway of his room and waving for Megan to drag Larry along.

'Thank you.' Megan mouthed to Colby as she towed the somewhat reluctant professor along with her.

Back in the room, Colby reached for a patient robe and let Megan handle the introductions.

"GiGi, this is one of Charlie's colleagues and my boyfriend, Dr. Larry Fleinhardt. Larry, this is Colby's father, Chief Gareth Granger."

"Please, leave the Chief stuff for when I'm in uniform. Just 'GiGi' will do. Nice to meet you, Dr. Fleinhardt." Gareth said.

"Nice to meet you ... why GiGi?" Larry's curiosity had no bounds and his social skills, while rough, weren't invasive.

"G for Gareth and G for Granger. My Army buddies in 'Nam just took to calling me GiGi and it stuck."

"Oh! That makes perfect sense. Thank you." Larry turned to look at Colby who was standing next to his bed. "You look better than Megan here led me to believe, Agent Granger."

Megan looked at Larry. "I did not. What I told you was from three days ago."

"Yes, yes, but you told me it was arsenic poisoning and most people who get that ill from the levels you told me about usually don't get back on their feet for weeks!"

GiGi chuckled. "That's probably true, Dr. Fleinhardt, but not in this case. Us Grangers are tough sonuvabitchs."

"Dad." Colby admonished his father. "Larry, it also has to do with the contaminates in the ground water where I grew up. Something about it gave me the ability to shake off heavy metal poisoning a little faster than someone else."

"Ah! The area of Idaho you lived in ... lots of mines in the area?"

Gareth nodded.

Megan let go of Larry's hand and reached over to squeeze Colby's arm. "How are you doing?"

"Going stir-crazy. I need to get outside and feel the sunshine on my face and smell something other than hospital air."

Megan grinned. That was Colby all right. "And when are they letting you go?"

Colby looked over at his father, the question clear on his face. "You said something about tomorrow morning, right Dad?"

"Yes, CeeJay ... depending on your last blood panels and if the doctor's decide that keeping you another day is detrimental to your health. Or mine."

"Megan, Larry ... do me a favor?" Colby asked.

"What?" Megan asked. "I am not breaking you out of here, if that's what you're asking."

Colby laughed. "Don't tempt me, Megan." He nodded toward his father. "Dad hasn't eaten lunch yet and won't unless there's someone here to keep me from going AMA. So will you walk with me to the nearest outdoor space and keep me company until he's back?"

Megan grinned. "I would be delighted." She looked at Gareth. "Don't worry about a thing, GiGi. He won't be going anywhere, he shouldn't be."

"I appreciate it, Megan. Not that my boy is headstrong - he gets that from his mother - but I've caught him already this morning trying to bribe the nurses into 'accidentally' letting him sign his release papers early."

Megan eyed Colby. "Amateur. Come on, Larry, let's keep this miscreant out of trouble for a few minutes."

"Hey, in my defense, I didn't have a world-class, space traveling physicist helping me stage my break out."

Larry looked at Chief Granger with the most innocent expression on his face. "I assure you, GiGi, I have no idea what these two hooligans disguised as FBI agents are talking about."

Gareth eyed Megan, then Colby and snorted. "Just as long as they both come back, I'll be happy."

"However, I promise to keep your son out of as much trouble as I can, whilst accompanying him on a mild ambulatory excursion."

"Thank you. I won't be gone long. I've learned to eat fast."

"Please, take your time … I've often found it a challenge to find the appropriate foods in a cafeteria." Larry followed Colby out of the room, and was followed by Gareth. "Do you have any idea how difficult it can be to find white food in a place like a hospital?"

"White food?" Gareth asked, mystified.

"Dad...Megan will explain later, or I will. Doctor Fleinhardt...I thought you were getting over that stage?"

Megan shook her head. _Where did I lose control?_

"I'm trying, Colby ... but the pure symmetry is lost when you start adding in other colors like green." Larry actually shuddered.

Gareth had a look of _Do I even want to know?_ on his face.

"GiGi, make your escape now or you might never." Megan suggested as the rather odd group neared the bank of elevators.

Gareth took the hint. "If you even think about it, son, I'll know." He said, before disappearing into the elevator.

"That man is relentless." Colby bitched as he led the way to the garden he spotted earlier off the Post-Surgical ward on the other end of the floor.

Megan laughed. "He knows you just a little too well."

"Yeah, well, he had plenty of practice with Lars, Cliff and even Cody."

"Your brothers?" Megan asked.

"Yeah. Lars is the oldest and is currently the city prosecuting attorney in Billings, Montana."

Megan nodded. "I like the name. You don't hear a lot of men named Lars unless they're from Scandinavia."

"And the others?" Larry asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Lars is a nickname, his first name is Clyde. Clyde Larson Granger." Colby pushed open a glass door that was fogged over with condensation and led the way out into a richly planted, artistically arranged planter-garden with benches strategically placed. And, most importantly, no other people and plenty of fresh - well, LA fresh - air.

"Your parents have a thing for names beginning with 'C's?" Larry asked as he wandered over to a wrought iron sundial in the corner behind the bench Colby was aiming for.

The recovering agent nodded. "We kids have asked, but Mom and Dad just shrug and tell us that it seemed 'right' when they did it. Personally, I think they got stuck."

"What is the disposition of your case as of yet?" Larry asked.

Colby looked at Megan. "I know she was arrested and interrogated but that's all."

Megan smiled a tight smile. "'Mad Hattie' has been sent to County Hospital for psychological observation. After which, depending on the determination of the examination, she will most likely be committed to the Federal Medical Center in Fort Worth, Texas."

Larry quirked an eyebrow.

"Think of it as the Federal Funny Farm." Megan supplied. She looked at Colby, seated next to her. "You okay?" she asked. "Or as okay as can be expected?"

He nodded and stuffed his hands into the pockets of the robe. "I just don't understand. Maybe I never will. What would ever possess her to do such a thing? And not just to me but anyone? What happened to her?"

"I couldn't even begin to answer that question." Megan started to say.

"Was she really that far off her rocker? And if she was why didn't I pick up on it? Shouldn't I have?" He stood up and started to pace.

"Colby, I'm trained in Behavioral Sciences and I didn't pick up on it until I was watching David interrogate her. I knew something was off but I didn't know what."

"We are not meant to understand all the vagaries of the human mind." Larry said, looking up from the sundial. "There is a fine line between genius and madness and this woman does not sound like she was a genius."

Colby nodded. He turned and stopped in front of Megan. "What about the interrogation? David told me what she said but you were watching. Did she act at all sorry or anything like that?" He was desperately searching for any scrape of information, no matter how small, that explain Hattie's behavior.

Megan thought for a moment. "You've got to realize that I was half-asleep, literally, by the time David did the interrogation so, I may not be the most reliable person to ask but Don did record it so it's there for you to watch whenever."

"I'm not sure I want to." Colby muttered. He resumed his pacing.

"I do remember David asking her why she would want to poison someone and she replied she hadn't wanted to, she had to. All in the name of research."

Another snort from Colby. "Wait, _David_ did the interrogation?" He knew he had been told that several times but it was only sinking in at that moment. He stopped by the door leading to the inside and turned back around.

Megan nodded. "He was the only one among us who was coherent enough to handle it and that was only because Don had kicked him out of your room at o' dark thirty and basically ordered him to get some sleep. Both Don and I would have loved to have done the interrogation but neither of us could have strung three words together into a viable sentence at that moment."

Larry looked up from his contemplation of the sundial. "She speaks the truth, Colby. I came and retrieved her after Don called me because he didn't want her falling asleep behind the wheel. I almost had to carry her to the car."

The image Larry painted was enough to make Colby chuckle. "The mind boggles." He said.

"It's a good thing you're out of arm's reach." Megan said, pointing a finger at him. She frowned then, noticing a slump in Colby's shoulders. "Why don't you come back over here and sit down before you fall down." She told him. "I'd hate to tell your father that you fell flat on your face while under my care."

"He would never believe you." Colby said, shuffling back over to the bench. "He would somehow figure I had done it to myself."

"That's because you're your own worst enemy, son." Gareth said, coming through the door. "I think you get that from me."

Colby frowned. "You couldn't have possibly gotten something to eat and been finished that quickly."

Gareth eyed both Megan and Larry. "When you're a cop on call twenty-four-seven and have four children, you learn to eat quickly, especially when your youngest had a tendency to dump his dinner in his brother's lap."

Colby colored. "I did not!"

"When you were a toddler you most certainly did. Your brothers all learned to sit as far away from you as possible." Gareth replied, calmly.

"Ah, the bonds of siblinghood." Larry said. "Something that I never had a chance to experience."

"You didn't miss that much, trust me." Megan muttered. She looked at Gareth. "I knew Colby had brothers but I didn't realize that he was the youngest."

"Oh, yes. It's a shame I don't have any pictures of him and his brothers when they were kids. He was real cutie then." Gareth said, watching Colby turn redder and redder. "He was a cute baby, a real rolly polly."

"Dad, please…" Colby pleaded with his father. He would never live any of this down with the rest of the team.

"His mother used to call him her…"

"DAD!" Colby interrupted him.

Gareth chuckled. "All right, CeeJay, I'm sorry. Believe it or not, I'm not trying to embarrass you."

"You sure about that?" Colby muttered.

Megan swallowed the laugh that threatened to come out. "On that note, I think we should go." She stood. "See, GiGi, he didn't go running off and he's still in one piece."

Gareth smiled. "Thank you, Megan. And thank you for coming by to see him." He looked up at Larry, who had come around to stand next to Megan. "Dr. Fleinhardt, it was a pleasure."

"Yes, yes, indeed." Larry replied, shaking hands with Gareth.

Megan touched Colby on the shoulder and said "Don't give him too hard of time, you know he means well."

Colby looked at his father, still talking to Larry and nodded. "But he doesn't have to drag out my entire childhood, does he?"

Megan gave him a tight smile. "Some of us had better childhoods than others." She took Larry's hand. "Shall we?"

He nodded and they left.

"All right, son. Back to the room." Gareth said, looking at Colby.

With a sigh, Colby stood and followed. Hopefully, in less than twelve hours, he would be free of this place. He could hardly wait.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 9**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

**Day Six**

The next morning, after breakfast his duty nurse, Sheila, gave Colby a present. It was a plastic, drawstring bag containing real clothes; one of his favorite polo shirts, blue jeans, and his sneakers. After almost a week of hospital gowns, he could finally put something on that didn't have ties in the back and _wasn't_ blue and white.

His smile could have lit up half of L.A.

"Get dressed, sign this and go." She told him. "I don't need healthy people taking up bed space."

"Yes, ma'am." Colby all but snatched the bag from her. In his eagerness to change, he missed the half-smile on Sheila's face.

When he came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he found his father chatting with her.

"He must have been a handful." Sheila said to Gareth.

"There was never a dull moment." Gareth replied. "CeeJay! Stupid question I know but you're ready to go?"

Colby nodded and headed for the door.

"Wait just a moment." Sheila muttered at him.

Colby froze.

"I know I said to go but you haven't signed the discharge forms yet and the wheelchair isn't here either." She frowned at Colby.

"I'll just go and get the car and bring it around front." Gareth said, disappearing from the room.

"Here, while you're waiting…." Sheila handed Colby a clipboard. He signed and signed and signed.

"Jeez, I didn't have to sign this many pieces of paper when I joined the Army or the Bureau." He groused.

"No, I'm certain you didn't. I certain you had to sign more." Sheila replied.

When finished, Colby handed the clipboard back and glared balefully at the door.

"Glaring is not going to make the wheelchair come any faster, Agent Granger. And don't even think about asking why because you already know the answer."

Soon, not nearly soon enough for Colby, but soon, an aide appeared with a wheelchair.

"Now, that didn't take so long now did it?" she asked.

"No, but…" Colby started to say but was cut off by a wave of her hand.

"Go. If I ever see you again, you had better be visiting someone. And you'd better not give your father a hard time on the way home." She told him.

"Yes, ma'am." Colby replied, again missing the half-smile on Sheila's face as the aide wheeled him from the room.

* * *

There was another surprise waiting for Colby downstairs. Don was talking to Gareth beside the Chief's patrol unit when the aide rolled Colby out the sliding glass doors.

"There he is." Gareth said, stepping away from the car. "I was beginning to wonder." He winked at the aide.

Colby didn't even dignify his father's statement with a response, climbing from the wheelchair before it even stopped. He looked around at the aide, already headed back inside. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The aide called back.

"I won't keep you any longer." Don said to Gareth. "I have a feeling that if I do, he'll start hiking down the road." He gestured toward Colby.

Gareth chuckled. "You wouldn't be that far off."

Colby colored and ducked his head. Why was everyone so eager to pick on him? Didn't anyone understand that he'd been stuck inside for almost a week and he just wanted to put as much space between himself and the hospital as was humanly possible?

"Hey, man," Don said, clapping Colby on the shoulder. "I'm just happy you're still kicking. Hell, we're all happy you're still here. That's why I came by, to see you off and remind you that you're going to have to put up with being needled for the foreseeable future, just because we can. That, and I'm the only one who's not required in court this morning."

Colby colored further but did not respond.

"GiGi, it was a pleasure to finally meet you, even if the circumstances were not the best." Don said, holding out his hand to Gareth.

"Likewise." Gareth said, shaking hands with Don. "And thank you for the encouragement to take your father up on the offer of a bed. It was real nice. I thanked your dad and your brother this morning."

Don grinned. "Any time. We were raised properly. I can only hope someone would do the same for my family if the roles were reversed." He took a business card from his wallet and handed it to Gareth. "If you ever need any help on or for anything else, please feel free to give me a call."

Gareth smiled and pocketed the card, pulling out of his own. He flipped it over and scribbled something on the back before handing it to Don. "The same goes for me." He gripped Colby's shoulder. "And if this young pup ever forgets his place, just call his mother and she'll set him straight. That's her number on the back. I know you've got our home number."

_Forget arsenic poisoning, I am going to die from embarrassment before I ever get out of here._ Colby thought. He appreciated the concern, really, he did but he just wanted to go.

Don noticed how ancy Colby had become in just the few minutes he had been outside and smiled. Yes, Colby would be just fine. "I'll see you in three weeks, Colby, and not a day before."

"Yes, sir." Colby replied.

With a wave, Don was gone and Colby and his dad were finally free but there was one final surprise waiting for the younger Granger. After settling into the car, Gareth reached over and opened the glove box. Inside was Colby's wallet, his shield, Bureau photo ID, cell phone, service weapon and back-up weapon.

"Finish getting dressed, son." Gareth said.

* * *

There was one last stop to make before Gareth and Colby could start for home. Gareth's _other_ reason for coming to Los Angeles. Jerred Oldsmith, currently waiting at the Pitchess Detention Center – North for transport back to Idaho. Not that Colby really cared who his father had to pick up before heading for home. He was happy just to be out of the hospital and away from the constant poking and prodding he'd be suffering through for the last five days.

The detention center was something like an hour to north of downtown L.A. in the Santa Clarita Valley, allowing Colby plenty of time to watch the scenery roll by on the 405 and wonder what the team was doing. Don had said that both Megan and David were in court but what about after that? He shifted in his seat. It felt strange not to be at work. He looked over at his father, and then back out the window, his eyelids growing heavier; within moments, he was asleep.

He jerked awake when he felt the patrol car turn off the highway and onto the road leading down to the detention center. He blinked and looked around. The foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains surrounded them where as the skyline of L.A. had still been in view when he had fallen asleep.

"Jeez, kinda out in the middle of nowhere, huh?" Colby asked his father.

Gareth's lips twitched in a smile. "Could be worse." He pulled the unit up to an electronic gate and held out his ID toward the camera pick up. "Chief Gareth Granger; Cascade, Idaho to pick up prisoner Jerred Oldsmith."

There was a click and the gate slid open. Gareth pulled the car through, then down a short road to a large brick building with a sally port just off to the side. He pulled the car into one of two ports and stopped the car.

"Dad? If it's all the same to you, I'll just stay in the car." Colby said.

Gareth shot his son a look. "You feeling okay, CeeJay?" The doctors had warned both Grangers that it would be a while before Colby felt 100 percent again, which meant Gareth was on the watch for any small thing that might signal a downward change in his son's medical status.

Colby smiled. "I'm fine, Dad. I've just had my fill of processed air for the moment."

Gareth nodded. "Understandable" He unholstered his Wilson Combat .45 and handed it to Colby. "Hold this for me, so I don't have to check it. I'll be as quick as I can."

Colby nodded and took the gun. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'd hope not, I've got the keys." Gareth quipped, climbing from the car.

Colby watched Gareth disappear into the building, double checked to make sure the safety was engaged on his father's sidearm and stuck it in the glove box. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. He hated feeling so run down all the time, he wasn't used it and didn't want to get used to it. What he wanted was his life back _before_ Hattie had made him a guinea pig. He yawned and blinked. God, he hated feeling like this. It was like he couldn't stay awake for longer than ten minutes! He slouched against the doorframe and let his gaze wander. It didn't wander for too long, for in a few moments, he drifted off.

A truck rumbling past the sally port woke him up more than a few minutes later. He grimaced, stretched and looked around, the vestiges of a very unsettling dream still lurking in his mind but not enough to allow him to remember why the dream was so unsettling. He shook his head, rubbed his face with his hands and opened the car door. Might as well stretch his legs while he had the chance. He made two complete circuits of the patrol car before finally stopping and leaning against the left front fender.

How long did it take to get one perp?

His question was answered not more than five minutes later when a door buzzed and opened nearby and Gareth reappeared with Jerred 'Jerry' Oldsmith in tow, or rather, in shackles. He waited, somewhat impatiently, for his father to frog march Jerry down the stairs and over to the unit before saying something.

"Where were they holding him?" Colby asked. "_Under_ the jail?"

"Be nice, Colby. I'm sure Jerry here is just as anxious to get on the road as you are."

"Whatever."

Jerry took one look at Colby and the badge hanging off Colby's belt and said, "I rate a Fed? I rate a fucking Fed?"

Colby rolled his eyes. "No, dogsqueeze, you do not rate a Fed. Sheesh."

"Then what are you doing here? Along for the ride?"

"Jerry," Gareth said, "You remember my son, Colby? Colby's an FBI agent here in LA and decided to come along with me on the trip back to Cascade so he could see his family."

Jerry eyed Colby suspiciously. "Yeah, so?"

"So, dipshit, I'm not here because of you, I'm here because my father asked me to come along with him instead of flying. Get in the damn car."

Jerry glared at Colby.

Gareth sighed. "Jerry... keep your yap shut. Colby, quit antagonizing the prisoner, will you?" Gareth did his best to make sure Jerred didn't hit his head on the way into the back seat ... but Jerry didn't cooperate and clocked his own head on the doorframe.

"OW!" He yelped.

Colby tried to hide his snicker but not really.

"Jerry ... bend your back and you won't hit your head. Now get in before I just shove you in there." Gareth glared at his son, daring the younger Granger to say something smart-alec.

Colby had enough good sense to keep any comments to himself.

Finally, Jerry was in the backseat and secured with the seatbelt and Gareth nodded for Colby to get back into the passenger seat as he climbed back behind the wheel. A flip of a switch on the instrument panel, set his light bar to flashing, letting the person manning the switchboard know he was ready to leave. The door in front of the unit slid open.

"And awaa-ay we go!" Gareth said.

* * *

"What, no gag?" Colby muttered, after the first half-hour or so of Jerry's non-stop patter. He honestly didn't think it was possible for a human being to talk so much about nothing at all but Jerry had. He hadn't been quite since the moment Gareth had left the detention center.

"I turned down an offer for duct tape..." Gareth dared his son to rag him on that.

"You're slowin' down, Dad. I would've thought you had some in the car already."

"I do. Somewhere."

"Then pull over and let me look for it."

"No, I don't want to be late getting into Fallon. And allowing you to search my unit would put us behind."

Colby shook his head. "I swear, I'm getting some ear plugs for tomorrow."

"Grab a pair for me too while you're at it. Damn, I wish drugging prisoners wasn't out of the question - legally - anymore. A little tranquilizer right now would be great."

And so it went and went and went. Colby found an escape in sleep but Gareth had no such luck. He had to keep both eyes open and both hands on the steering wheel. He dearly regretted turning down the duct tape. He cast a quick glance over at Colby, fast asleep.

_He always could sleep through anything._ Gareth thought.

"Hey, Chief? Is he okay? He's sleeping a lot." Jerry asked. He had finally ceased yammering at the California/Nevada border but never one to be quiet for long, he noticed Colby's siesta in the front seat and just _had_ to say something.

"Shut up, Jerry." Gareth replied.

"He's not contagious or anything like that, is he?" Jerry asked, totally missing the irritation in Gareth's voice.

"Jerry, I'm not telling you again...Shut up." Gareth snapped.

"Man, stick me in a car with someone who's probably got some weird ass disease..." Jerry grumbled.

Gareth aburptly pulled the car off to the side of the road and stopped. He got out, opened the back door and grabbed a fistful of Jerry's shirt. "Boy, when I tell you to shut up, I mean it." He snarled.

Jerry's eyes widened and he turned several shades whiter.

"Dad? What…what's going on?" Colby called from the front seat, the stopping of the car in the middle of nowhere had woken him up.

"Stopped to make an attitude adjustment, son." Gareth said, slamming the back door shut. He climbed back into the patrol car and put the car in the gear and pulled back out onto the highway.

Colby looked at his father, looked at the death grip he had on the steering wheel, the stiffness in his shoulders. He also looked back at Jerry, still wide eyed. It didn't take much to put two and two together and figure out what had happened.

"Dad, what did you do?" he asked.

"I told you, son, an attitude adjustment." Gareth replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

Colby nodded. It was rare that he saw his father upset and mad; usually it was one or the other but not now. Gareth Granger was teed off but good.

"I'm fine, Dad." He said. It would do no good for his father to get so upset so far from home.

"I know." Gareth replied. What he didn't say was just how close he had come to knocking Jerry into the next county. He had never struck a prisoner out of anger but this time…. he had come awfully close.

Jerry was quiet as church mouse the rest of the way into Fallon. Gareth had scared him speechless.

Fallon, Nevada, the county seat of Cleveland County, NV and their rest stop for the night came into view two hours later and shortly, Jabberin' Jerry was the Sheriff's problem until 5:30 A.M. the next morning. It had been a loooooooooooooonnnnnnnggggg eight hours but it was over and done with until tomorrow morning.

Dinner was a simple affair in the hotel dinning room and then bed. It was the first time in almost a week that Colby hadn't slept in a hospital bed. The bed could have been concrete and he would've fallen asleep instantly. Gareth stayed awake a little longer, channel surfing, watching his son sleep. He would never admit it to anyone but had he gotten to the crazy bitch first, there wouldn't have been anything left to prosecute.

He crawled into bed, turned off the lights and lay there for a long time, letting the anger inside dissipate. It would do no good to keep it inside. Finally, it was gone and he was able to sleep.

* * *

For those of you who might want to see the sidearm that Chief Granger carries, please visit the following website: 

http // www . wilsoncombat . com / p (underscore) sentinel (underscore) pro . asp

remove gaps from the above


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: We do not own any of the recognizable characters from Numb3rs in this story. If anyone 'owns' them it would probably be the following: Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, Scott Free Productions and CBS Network. Unrecognizable characters are our creation and are not, despite appearances, meant to portray any "real life" person or persons. We're both poor college students, not worth suing.

**Thanks**: Beta Readers and Editors, Antoinette and Ely. Without their help, this tale would not be as tightly written as it currently is. Thank you, ladies!

**Feedback**: Positive, negative, we'll welcome it all. Certain creative license has been taken by the writers in order to make certain scenes fly by or, just because we're not Native Los Angelinos.

**Synopsis**: It was just the flu, so how'd he end up in ICU fighting for his life?

* * *

**Arsenic And New Kevlar**

**Chapter 10**

By AmyD & Suisan

* * *

The click of the door swinging shut woke Gareth. He rolled over in bed and squinted at Colby's bed, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. 

"CeeJay?" He asked. No answer.

A small frisson of fear skittered up Gareth's spine. What if…? He sat up in bed and switched on the bedside light, blinking in the sudden brightness. Colby's bed was empty and, after a quick check, so was the bathroom. He sat down on the edge of his son's bed and let out the breath he had been holding. No, his son was not having a relapse. Yes, his son was having nightmares and had, probably, gone to hotel gym to get rid of them, temporarily.

The fact that Colby was having nightmares was not a surprise. They were, after all, part of the mind's way of dealing with extremely traumatic events. Being poisoned by your little old lady neighbor as research for a book would certainly qualify.

He had suffered through some real nasty nightmares after returning from 'Nam. Not quite enough to drive him loopy but enough to keep Cat and himself on edge for a good long while. He had a good idea of what his boy was going through and knew there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He tossed a look over his shoulder at the clock radio on the nightstand. It read: 4:12 A.M. Time enough to get dressed and join Colby for a pre-Jerry workout.

Sure enough, Colby was in the hotel's gym, using the treadmill, his head was down and he did not see his father come into the room.

"Bad one, huh, CeeJay?" Gareth asked, walking up to the treadmill.

Colby's head jerked up and he met his father's gaze for a moment before looking away. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Nah, don't worry about waking me…I did the same to your mother more times than I can count after 'Nam."

Colby nodded. He punched a button on the treadmill and brought the machine to a stop. "I'm going to take a shower, Dad."

"Okay. We're supposed to pick Jerry up from the jail at 0530 hrs." Gareth looked at his watch. "I'm frankly surprised I haven't gotten a call begging to come get him earlier."

"Maybe they put something in his food." Colby suggested. He stepped off the treadmill and wiped down the machine using the towel he had brought with him.

Gareth snorted. "We could only be so lucky. You want breakfast before we get him or do you want to skip it?"

Colby thought for a moment. "I'd like something to eat."

"Good, so would I. Don't hog all the hot water. I'll check with the desk clerk and see when the hotel dinning room opens. If it doesn't open for a while, I'll ask for the nearest diner that serves a decent breakfast." Gareth left the gym before his son. Colby would have to battle his demons in his own way, but he would have to find a way to let his youngest know that he could come to his dad if he just needed to talk.

* * *

The hotel restaurant was indeed open even at the ridiculous hour of 4:45 A.M. It was open and already had a crowd, mostly law enforcement people. Gareth and Colby took a table near the entrance and watched the people go by. It a rare occasion for both men to see the world outside of their regular haunts. Gareth didn't have much chance or desire to see much more than Cascade, Idaho and Colby simply didn't have the chance to get outside of L.A. unless a case gave him that chance.

More than a few stopped and said hello to Gareth and Colby and give their assessment of the food and drink.

"Best damn coffee here abouts and the staff doesn't spit in our food." A Nevada State Trooper, whose name tag read 'Byer' volunteered.

"That's always a plus." Gareth replied.

"Yeah, but that's only because half the kitchen staff is LEO spouses or related in some other way. You don't screw family, ya know?" Trooper Byer replied.

"Well, yeah."

"If you don't see what you want on the menu, you just ask Mary Sue ... she'll get you whatever you might want ... as long as Cookie has the supplies." Trooper Byer said. At the amused looks he got, he added, "Yeah, the cook's name is Cookie, no joke. Don't know what Holiday Inn thinks about it but," he shrugged "who cares? The food's good and no one complains."

"Think Mary Sue could get me a burger and fries?" Colby was jonesing for simple foods.

"Here she comes, ask her yourself." Trooper Byer said, pointing at the smallish woman with short chestnut hair and a big smile heading in their direction.

"Marlon? Aren't you supposed to be out on patrol already?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm heading out. Just stopped to inform these gentlemen of how good the food is here. He's after a hamburger." Trooper Byer pointed at Colby.

Mary Sue eyed Colby. "Burger, no problem ... would you settle for hash browns instead of fries? Cookie's got Waylon tearing the fryer down for a scrubbing."

"Sure." Colby said.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, Mary Sue." Trooper Byer said. He waved and went out the entrance.

"I'd better see you tomorrow." Mary Sue called after him.

"I didn't know a hamburger was breakfast food." Gareth gently needled Colby.

Mary Sue heard the comment and smiled at Gareth, "You must be this one's parent. Trust me, growing boys who work as cops can eat just about anything, anywhere, anytime. A hamburger at 5 A.M. is nothing new to me."

Gareth chuckled. "Guilty as charged. Hey, he's a big boy; he can eat what he wants. As long as his mother doesn't find out." He winked at Mary Sue.

"Right ..." She returned the wink and turned back to Colby. "How about a nice, thick shake to go with that burger?"

Colby grinned.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"We'll take a pot of coffee too." Gareth said.

"Not a problem, you need cream or milk with that?"

"Cream." Colby said.

"Got it and what about you, Chief?" Mary Sue asked, noticing the insignia on Gareth's collar.

Gareth looked down at the menu for a moment. "Scrambled eggs, hash browns and a short stack of pancakes."

"Righto. Back in a few!" Mary Sue collected the menus and wandered off to the kitchen, leaving the Grangers in peace. She came back a few minutes later with two cups of coffee, and then left again.

Gareth fiddled with his coffee mug for a long while before saying "You know you can talk to me about anything, right, CeeJay?"

Colby _looked_ at his father. "Yeah."

"And I do mean _anything_, son. Including the things that wake you up in the middle of the night gasping for air." Gareth said.

Colby's eyes roamed over his father's face, after a long moment, he finally nodded.

"As long as you know."

Before Colby could respond, Mary Sue arrived at the table with breakfast and silence descended.

After eating, Mary Sue rang them up but before letting them go, she looked Colby in the eye and said "Agent Granger? You get better, okay?"

Colby looked at her, startled.

"Yeah, I know. Even out here in the middle of nowhere we've got TV... I didn't want to say anything earlier. But I didn't want to let you go without telling you I care. No one should go through what you did. Besides, you see that big galloot in the corner?" She pointed to a man built like a Defensive End on steroids. "That's my young'un and, yes, he's a cop. We take care of our own."

Colby swallowed and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

It wasn't until they were in the car and on the way to get Jerry that Gareth glanced at the bill and realized Mary Sue had not charged them for Colby's breakfast. He smiled and sent a silent thank you back to the waitress. He'd send her to money for the breakfast when he got back to Cascade but, somehow, he was certain he'd get it back.

* * *

"Good morning, Chief." The jailer's smile was bordering on gleeful when he and Colby appeared at the tiny facility at exactly 5:30 A.M. "I am so happy to see you."

"Morning, Sergeant Winestock." Gareth replied. "Let me guess, he wouldn't shut up for you either."

"No. But if you keep the door shut between here and the cells, it does muffle the sound somewhat." Sgt. Winestock said.

Somewhere behind the door leading to the cells came a very off key, if slightly muffled, version of 'Hotel California'. This voice was joined by another one, even more off key.

Sgt. Winestock winced and looked at the two Grangers. He held his hands out for the cuffs, belt and leg irons in Gareth's hands. "I'll be back in a moment with your songbird."

Five minutes later, the Sergeant came back through the door, a shuffling Jerred in front of him, and handed the man over to Gareth. "He's all yours. Take him and go. Please!" The last word was chockfull of the sergeant's not-so-silent plea.

Jerred immediately raised a protest. "Aw man, I can't go yet! Lou owes me a tune!"

Colby didn't hold back, "That's life, Jerry. Get over it."

Gareth just shook his head, at both Jerred and his own son. "That's enough. Colby, get the door and let's get this show on the road."

Out in the car, Gareth gave Jerry a friendly reminder. "Remember what I told you yesterday? It still holds. Got it?"

Jerry swallowed and nodded.

"Good."

Jerry lasted as far as Winnemucca, Nevada, just before the Idaho/Nevada border, four hours in total.

"Jerry…" Gareth warned.

"Aw, come on, Chief, I haven't said two words since leaving Fallon. Cut me some slack." Jerry said.

Gareth sighed. "We're stopping in a minute for lunch. When you get out of the car, then you can talk, quietly."

"Dad, why did you say that?" Colby looked away from the window.

"Because once he's outside of the car, I don't have to listen to it as much." Gareth replied. He spotted a McDonald's and cheerfully announce, "Time for lunch."

* * *

"_On the road again... I just can't wait to get on the road again_..." Jerry warbled from the back seat. 

"Jerry!" Both Grangers warned the man at the same time.

"What?"

"More chewing and less singing." Gareth told him.

"You don't like Willie Nelson? It's un-American to not like Willie Nelson." Jerry said, offended that he might be in a car with people who didn't like Willie Nelson.

Colby decided to humor Jerry. "Actually, I do like his writing, it's his voice I can't stand. Now eat in silence - don't even hum or else…" He held up the roll of duct tape Gareth had dug out of the unit's trunk.

Jerry scowled. "That is so not right."

"Neither's your so-called singing. I've heard worse at an America Idol try out, but not by much."

"Aw, they're just pikers. Every one of 'em."

"Yeah, well ... to be truthful, William Hung has nothing to worry about from you, Jerry."

"See, I told 'ya."

"Colby, quit tormenting Jerry. Jerry ... eat and shut up."

"Yes, Chief."

There was blessed silence for the next half-hour while Jerry finished his lunch.

"Chief?" he asked, when finished.

"What, Jerry?"

"You wouldn't really use that duct tape on me, would you?"

Colby swallowed the laugh that threatened to come out.

"What do you think?"

That kept Jerry quite for a while as he thought. "I don't think you would, Chief."

"Keep trying me and you'll find out."

Jerry lapsed into silence again.

Colby kept his thoughts to himself and his eyes out the car window. The closer he got to home, the better he felt. Just crossing into Idaho had given him a boost. And now, he was close enough to start recognizing landmarks. The Salmon River Mountains rising up to surround them, the Boise River running smack through the middle of Boise. The small towns dotted around Boise. The 'distance-to' roadside signs. The first one he saw that mentioned Cascade, just about made Colby want to cry. He was almost there, almost home.

Gareth shot his son many looks, a smile creeping across his face each time.

"Are we almost there?" Jerry asked when they were not quite an hour outside of Cascade.

"Yes, Jerry, we're almost there." Gareth replied.

"Good, I've had enough of this car."

"And I've had enough of you." Gareth told him. "Keep this trip in mind the next time you're going to do something stupid."

"Never happen, Dad." Colby said, not taking his eyes from the window.

"Hope springs eternal, son."

* * *

The first sign read: _Cascade, ID – A few miles away, but worlds apart! _Another stated: _Cascade, ID – Elevation: 4,780 ft. – Pop.: 1,001_. Simple markers meant to inform all who passed by of the town they were approaching, but to Colby they meant something entirely different. They meant he was home.

"Do you mind if I open the window?" He asked his father.

Gareth chuckled and said "Sure. For a moment there I thought you were going to ask to open the door!"

Colby flushed to a deep red before opening the car window. He sucked in lungfuls of the clean, crisp air and realized just how smoggy L.A. was. He was just getting used to seeing old haunts on Main Street when his father turned off Main St. onto West Spring St. and then pulled into the parking lot of the Valley County Sheriff's Department. A smallish building connected to the county court house, it offered an excellent view of Cascade Lake, if you stood close to the street and there was no fog.

"Ah, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." Gareth said, steering the car into the alleyway that ran beside the Sheriff's Dept.

"About time." Jerry grumbled.

Gareth frowned and turned to look at him. "I'm taking you back to the airport and you can walk back and I don't mean the one we got here!"

Jerry swallowed and shut up.

Two Sheriff's deputies were waiting in the alleyway. Gareth had never been so happy to see anyone in a Valley County Sheriff's uniform in a very long time. He handed over the paperwork and told the two deputies, "Tell Sheriff Leland that I'll be by in the morning with my report and travel expense accounting. I'm getting my tired ass home ... and Colby too."

"Yes, sir." Deputy Navaro said.

Gareth waited until the door swung shut behind Deputies Navaro and Gates and Jerry before putting the car in drive and pulling out of the alleyway and back onto the street.

He keyed the mic and said, on an open radio channel, "Cascade One, PD ... I'm home. Dropped '15 off at County and am heading to the '42. Cascade Two remains Commander on Call until 0900hrs tomorrow. Learn to live with it, Bill!"

"_Jeez, Chief, you trying to kill me?"_ Bill Huston, Gareth's second in command, came on the radio loud and clear.

"No, Two... if I was, you'd know it."

"_How's Colby?"_

"Call you later with that, Two ... better yet, stop by the '42 later." Gareth unkeyed the mic, then thought better about it and rekeyed before Bill could respond. "And for all you Eavesdroppers... let the boy have some time with Cat before you descend like flies."

* * *

The packed gravel road off the main road thumped under the wheels of the patrol car when Gareth turned on to it. He shot a glance at Colby and grinned. His youngest had his head out the window, straining for his first glimpse of the house. He was not disappointed. The massive log house rose up from the roadway, situated in between a barn and a scattering of outbuildings.

Colby stared at the house like it was a mirage and would disappear if he got too close to it. He was home, really and truly home. He could scarcely believe it. When he was the sickest, he wondered if he would ever see it again.

The front door was wide open but the screen door was shut, meaning that someone was home. Colby grinned. Some things never changed.

He had barely stepped out of the car when a speeding missile that turned out to be his mother flattened him against it. She wrapped her arms around him and threatened to squeeze the life out of him. When Catherine Granger finally eased up a bit, he was able to look down at her, not all that surprised to see her face was a little blotchy from crying.

"CeeJay, you're too damn thin!" She scolded him.

Colby smiled and said, "That's why I came home, Mom."

"Yes, I know ... only two weeks to put some meat back on those bones. You need a wife."

"Cat! Let the boy rest before you start back in on that old row!" Gareth called out to his wife from the trunk of his unit. "And your boss said three weeks, CeeJay." He added.

"Dad ... I will need a week - minimum - to find another place to live."

"So, you never heard of the Internet? You can't look up places on-line? You can't get Charlie to come up with some formula or something?" Gareth's voice was muffled. "You think your mother's letting you go after two weeks?"

"She will, Dad, even if I have to use grease and crowbar to get Mom to let go of Squirt." A new voice joined the conversation.

Colby looked around and saw Lars standing at the front bumper of the car. "Lars! Man, what are you still doing here?"

"Decided that since I cleared my desk so I could be here with Mom, that I might as well take advantage of it and take my vacation." Clyde Larson Granger, four inches taller than Colby, stepped forward and, after their mother moved out of the way, engulfed him in a bear hug. "Damn, Squirt, Mom's right. You're nothing but bones!"

"And you're going to break them." Colby sputtered.

"Oops! Sorry." Lars released Colby and sent him back into their mother's grasp. "Here, Mom. Take Boney Butt inside while I help Dad unpack the unit."

Colby aimed a smack at his big brother but Cat pulled on Colby's hand and he missed. Lars shot a knowing grin at Colby's attempt to hit him as he watched Cat, literally, drag Colby off. Literally leading him across the yard, up the steps to the porch, inside the house and, knowing her, straight to the kitchen.

"Long trip, Dad?" Lars asked, pulling Colby's duffle bag out and dropping it onto the pavement.

Gareth didn't even try to hide his disgust. "Next time Leon needs me to pick up a prisoner, I'll tell him to stuff the request - sideways. Jerred Oldsmith is a right pain in my ass."

Lars started to laugh. "That bad?" He managed after a few moments.

"Imagine, if you can ... a person who couldn't carry a tune in a Tupperware container - sealed mind you - if he tried, who still insisted on singing classic rock or Broadway tunes or whatever came to mind." Gareth waited to see Lars wince; after all, his eldest had been a knockout baritone in his youth. "And when he wasn't 'singing' he was prattling on about anything and everything and nothing."

Lars winced. "How's CeeJay?" He asked, no laughter, no joking, totally serious.

Gareth closed the trunk and picked up the cases from the drive before answering. "He's going to be okay. However, he's been sleeping - a lot - and I know he's had a couple of nightmares about the incident. He's going to need our support ... even if it's just to help him reconnect with reality after a bad dream."

Lars nodded. He shouldered Colby's duffle bag. "And the trial?"

"I need to call Agent Eppes tonight." Gareth started to walk up the yard toward the house. "First to let him know we made it home and, secondly, to see what the bitch's psyche eval said."

"You mind if I listen in?" Lars asked, matching his father's stride.

"Not at all." Gareth stopped before he pulled open the screen door. "You know there's a chance she won't go to trial, right?"

Lars stopped cold. "Why not?"

"If she's deemed nuts, excuse me, 'mentally incapacitated'... Lars you've had cases like this. You know how it can happen."

Lars swore, not loud enough for his mother to hear but using language he hadn't used since law school.

"I know how you feel, son. Now, let's get this stuff upstairs and go see if your mother has managed to stuff something into your brother yet."

"Yes, sir." Lars followed his father into the house.

* * *

Colby entered the kitchen behind his mother and stopped in his tracks. The table was loaded with covered dishes, plants, flowers, cards and even a couple of gift-wrapped packages. "Mom?"

Cat pulled him into the room. "It's not my fault. The whole town seems to have found out you were coming home today and, well ... most of that stuff is from all your 'aunties' and 'unks'."

Colby grinned. He couldn't help it. "Wow, it looks like Wal-Mart exploded in here."

Cat let out a trill of laughter. "It does, doesn't it? Especially the bakery and garden center." She pulled a chair out from the table and gestured for him to sit down. "Might as well start digging through the cards and stuff—" She swatted his hand when he reached for one of Auntie Rose's famous homemade cinnamon rolls "--before you get to the sweets."

Colby pulled his hand back and looked at his mother.

"I know, I know. First I accuse you of being all bones, then I don't let you have the really fattening stuff first."

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

"Dinner. It'll be ready in about an hour. Lars helped me with the smoker and the rest of the meal will also be some of your favorites." She opened up the backdoor and the light breeze blew in a fragrant tendril of smoke.

Colby inhaled, deeply, and sighed in bliss. "Brisket."

He actually pushed the cinnamon rolls aside and reached for the stack of cards. And what a stack there was. He was allowed to leave the kitchen only when dinner was ready and the family ate it on the back porch since the kitchen table was overloaded with gifts.

After dinner, and an all too sweet, but-oh-so-damn-good cinnamon roll for dessert, he climbed up the stairs found his room and collapsed on the bed without unpacking. Morning would be soon enough for that. Right now, he was home ... and that's all that mattered. For now.

* * *

Not too much later, Cat crept up the stairs and stood in the doorway of Colby's bedroom and watched him sleep. It was something she had done since he was a little boy and even though he was now a grown man, she still did it. No matter how old he got or where he went, he would always be her baby boy.

Gareth came up beside her and put his hand around her waist. "Didn't I tell you that I'd bring him home? That he'd be fine?"

"I want to be there, Gareth. No, I will be there. Whenever ever the trial happens. I want to see the creature that nearly took my boy from me." Cat said, leaning against him.

Gareth nodded. He didn't have the heart to tell her that there would be no trial for 'Mad Hattie'. His phone call to Don had only confirmed what Agent Reeves had surmised. Hattie had been deemed 'insane' and unable to stand trial. She was 'not guilty by reason of mental defect' and had been remanded to the Federal Medical Center in Ft. Worth, Texas for the rest of her natural life. He squeezed Cat tightly; silently wishing the poisoning bitch had 'resisted' arrest so Reeves could've shot her. There wouldn't have been any reason to send the bitch for a psychiatric evaluation then.

**END**

* * *

**A/N**: The book referred to during Colby's hospital stay, A History of Crime and Punishment in America, is an actual book by Lawrence Friedman. It literally covers the topic in question from the earliest colonial days to the early 1990s. I picked it up years ago as an 'informative' research book and ended up actually enjoying reading it. I have since found out that there are some law schools throughout the country that have the book on their 'required reading' lists. If you like history and are interested in law or even law enforcement, I suggest you find and read this book. _Suisan_


	11. Bonus 1

LA Times

Poisoned: FBI Hunts For A Possible Killer

By: Bartelle, Bebé

* * *

Poisoned: Accident or Intentional?

The local field office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation is looking into the possible poisoning of one of it's own.

Special Agent Colby J. Granger, 36, was found in his apartment near death early Thursday morning by co-workers who'd gone to check on him after he failed to call in sick. Agent Granger had been sent home sick on Monday and missed work the next two days due to what everyone thought was a case of the flu. As readers may be aware, the current influenza season has struck the greater Los Angeles area pretty hard and no place of business, including police and fire departments throughout the area, have been spared. Agents David Sinclair and Meghan Reeves, who work closely with Agent Granger, were sent by their team leader, Supervisory Agent Donald Eppes, to check on Granger after the Agent had failed to call in and was not answering repeated attempts to get him on the phone.

Not a moment too soon.

Agent Granger was found, semi-coherent and nearly dead, in his apartment and rushed to a local, undisclosed hospital where it was discovered he'd been poisoned with arsenic. Currently the FBI and local agencies are looking into the case to see if Agent Granger was exposed to the heavy metal toxin on purpose, by accident, or if he'd intentionally ingested the substance. Agent Meghan Reeves, a Quantico-trained behaviorist, reportedly outright denied any possibility of Agent Granger having willingly ingested the toxin according to unnamed sources. She also went on to explain to my sources that Agent Granger is, "One of the most stable personalities I've ever had the opportunity to work with."

Accident or Intended Murder?

Barring the idea that Agent Granger attempted to take his own life, by ingesting a fairly esoteric substance, that leaves two possibilities: Accidental or Intentional. If this was a case of accidental introduction of a toxic substance, why hasn't the person(s) responsible stepped forward? If this is a case of intentional poisoning, I understand the perpetrator's reluctance to come forward. Attempted murder of a Federal Agent carries with it a possible life-without-parole sentence and, should Agent Granger die - he's listed as "Questionable but Stable" - that sentence can be upped to include the death penalty.

Agent Colby Granger's family has been notified and, reportedly, his father - a Chief of Police for a small town in Idaho - is on his way down to Los Angeles to be with his son.


	12. Bonus 2

Cascade Chronicle

Reporter: Sandra Brown

* * *

**Cascadian Native Celebrates Recovery**

One of Cascade's own sons, turned Federal Agent for the FBI, had a near brush with death earlier this month, at the hands of one of his neighbors. Colby J. Granger, youngest son of Cascade Police Chief Gareth Granger, recently came home to recuperate from the attempt on his life by a, as he put it, "nice older lady who - apparently - had a few screws loose and I just didn't see it." That nice older lady has been identified as Harriet Anne "Hattie" MacPherson, late of Los Angeles California, who is now serving an 'indefinite sentence' at the Federal Medical Center in Fort Worth, Texas.

In a outrageous plot almost certainly inspired by the curious play of "Arsenic and Old Lace" - MacPherson attempted to poison her young FBI Agent neighbor, Colby Granger, by slowly dosing him with a form of Arsenic. Young Granger wasn't aware of the poisoning, thinking he was just coming down with the flu that was running rampant through the staff at the Los Angeles Field office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but it was all a very carefully laid out plot by MacPherson to research the affects of arsenic poisoning instead of just reading about it.

According to Chief Granger, who had permission from his son to talk to this reporter, the woman who had attempted to kill his son was, in fact, writing a mystery/drama novel and one of the characters was, apparently, based on young Colby J. Granger. Except for one little thing that the Granger Family and the LA FBI team, which the youngest Granger works with, are thankful for: A built up higher tolerance of heavy metals within Colby Granger's body. That higher tolerance is what enabled Agent Granger to survive the high doses of arsenic, which Harriet "Hattie" MacPherson used in attempts to bring about the desired results for her research.

As most Cascadians who live off well water know - this area is loaded with old mines, whose toxic runoff has contaminated the ground water - but not at levels of concern, and naturally occurring heavy metals. From the time the Granger Family bought the old Burleson homestead, back when the youngest child (Colby) was 8 years old, the family has routinely used the well water on the property for all their needs and, yes, that water was (and is) lightly contaminated with arsenic, mercury and even lead. This constant exposure to arsenic helped young Agent Granger to build up the tolerance that helped save his life, without those tolerance levels he most certainly would've died for the level of dosage MacPherson was using on her young neighbor were enough to kill - if the person ingesting the substance didn't have a high tolerance level to arsenic.

Harriet "Hattie" MacPherson is incarcerated and Agent Colby J. Granger recently returned to his assignment with the FBI in Los Angeles. The Granger family wishes to thank everyone who sent well wishes, not to mention tons of gifts and food items, and for the space the residents of Cascade gave their son. They're hoping Colby, along with sons Lars, Cliff and Cody, will be able to return later this summer for a family reunion after Cliffton - a Chief Petty Officer in the US Navy - comes back from his sea tour of the Persian Gulf. Cody Granger, also an FBI Agent - but at the Hoover Building in Washington DC - hopes to take leave time from his position and Clyde "Lars" Granger - City Prosecutor in Billings, MT - has already told his office that he'll be taking a couple of weeks leave this summer and to prepare for his absence. Catherine "Cat" Granger is already gearing up for the family reunion which, according to her, will also include at least one "major kick butt party" for all the 'honorary' Aunts and Uncles who were so instrumental in helping Colby get back on his feet after his brush with death.


	13. Bonus 3

Gareth's first reaction upon seeing the Craftsman house the Eppes family called home was one of pleasure. The clean lines and graceful symmetry of the house brought a smile to his face. He had developed an appreciation of the Craftsman style house when building his family's house in Idaho. The appreciation had only grown over time.

"What a beauty." Gareth said, climbing from his car.

"Thank you." Alan said, beaming. "You can park in the driveway if you want."

"Thank you but no. I'm not going to be here for long anyway." Gareth replied.

Alan nodded, waiting for Gareth to take an overnight bag from the car before leading he way up the front steps. He ushered Gareth inside and shut the door. "Have a seat if you want. Just put your bag wherever, I'll get Charlie to take it upstairs." He looked around the room. "Just as soon as I find him."  
The ringing phone delayed, momentarily, Alan's hunt for his son, giving Gareth a chance to get a good look at his temporary home. The interior of the house was just as beautiful as the exterior. The same graceful lines made the inside feel far roomier than what actual square footage was. More over, it wasn't just a house, it was a home. A pictorial history of the Eppes family were scattered about the living room. Gareth paused at the piano and looked at a fairly recent picture of the Eppes family, his ears picking up Alan's end of the phone conversation.

"No, Elise, there's nothing wrong, I promise…The car belongs to a family friend, he's in town on business…Yes, Elise, thank you for looking out for us…Yes, really…I have to go now, I have guests waiting on me…I will Elise, Goodbye."

Gareth looked toward the fireplace and caught sight of Alan coming from the other side of the living room. "Alan, if my being here is going to cause problems with your neighbors, I can go."

Alan waved Gareth's concerns away. "And I'm telling you, you're not. Elise Dupre is a lovely woman who is always willing to help out and blind as a bat without her glasses." He shook his head. "She saw the car, made out the lightbar and jumped to conclusions."

Gareth chuckled. He had more than a few Elise Dupres back in Cascade. "People like that can either be a patrolman's nightmare or a second or third pair of eyes. I was just looking at some of your pictures."

He pointed to a small picture with an adult Don and Charlie in the front and Alan and Margaret in the back. It was one of the ones taken before Margaret no longer had the strength to move. Alan followed Gareth's finger, a sad smile crossing his face. If Gareth noticed Alan's reaction, he made no mention of it.

"How did you manage to get both boys into the picture at the same time?" Gareth asked. "Cat, my wife, always has a devil of time getting all of our boys together long enough to take a picture. 'Course, it is harder with four than two but any suggestions you have…"

"It's parental guilt." A new, young voice said from the direction of the kitchen.

Gareth turned his head and saw the young man he had just seen in the picture on the piano. Just like the picture, he had dark eyes and dark, curly hair. Just one look and Gareth knew who it had to be. The young man crossed through the dining room before coming into the living room and stopping in front of him and Alan.

"Charlie! I was just about to go and look for you." Alan said to him. "Meet Colby's dad, Chief Gareth Granger. Gigi, this is my son, Dr. Charles Eppes."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Charlie said, shaking hands with Gareth. "Chief of what?"

"Police chief of Cascade, ID. And, please, call me Gigi. What's your doctorate in?"

"Which one?" Charlie asked.

With that response, Gareth decided that Colby had truly lucked out to have a boss who had such a down to earth family.

"Charlie…"Alan started to say.

"He asked, Dad." Charlie replied.

"Guilty as charged." Gareth said, holding up his hands in surrender. He cocked his head to side and studied Charlie for a moment. Yes, Charlie reminded him of Cody, Colby's older brother, also with the F.B.I. but as a cryptologist.

"Is Don up yet?" Alan asked his son.

Charlie shrugged. "I don't know, I just came in."

"Take Gigi's bag upstairs to the guest room and see if he's stirring. If he's not, leave him be. If he is up, tell him we're out back."

Charlie saluted his father, snatched up Gareth's bag and bounded up the stairs.

"Smart aleck." Alan said, after him. To Gareth, he said "Come on outside. I've got the grill ready to go. Would you like something to drink?"

Several hours later, with the sky awash in pinks and crimsons and the scent of BBQ perfuming the air, Gareth reflected on the events of the past twelve hours. His son had been lucky not once, but twice. It would ease Cat's mind some to know that Colby had a 'family' in the wilds of L.A. It did his heart good too. Without Don, Colby would have died. It was a fact that Gareth would not forget.

"Another beer, Gigi?" Charlie asked, sitting down next to him.

"No, thank you. But it's nice to know that there are some young people out there that were raised properly." Gareth said.

Standing at the grill, Alan snorted. "Glad the effort hasn't gone completely to waste."

"What's this about Charlie not being raised properly?" Don came outside, beer in hand, looking far better than he had the last time Gareth had seen him. It's amazing what eight hours of sleep and a hot shower would do for a person. "He was raised by wolves until he was three, you know. Mom and Dad found him under a leaf near the koi pond." He grinned and dropped into a chair opposite Gareth.

Charlie made a face at his brother, then a sneaky smile crossed his face. "Gigi, do you like jokes?"

Don's eyes popped open. "Dirty pool, Charlie."

"Of course, I do. My job can be depressing enough as it is." Gareth replied. "Nothing like a good laugh. What'cha got?"

"What do you call a cow with two legs?"

Gareth quirked an eyebrow. "I have no idea."

"Lean beef." Charlie said with a grin.

Alan simply shook his head and Don was looking for somewhere to hide.

Gareth chuckled and said. "That's good. Try this one. How can you tell which potato standing on the sidewalk is a hooker?"

Charlie's brow wrinkled in thought but a few moments shook his head.

"It's the one saying 'I da ho…I da ho'." Gareth said.

Alan and Don groaned but Charlie laughed. "I'll have to remember that one and tell Larry. What's green and hops in bed?" He asked Gareth.

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Gareth said.

"You should be." Don muttered.

"Prostitoad." Charlie said.

Gareth roared with laughter.

"Charlie!" Alan admonished him, taking his eyes off the steaks to glare at his son. "What exactly are you teaching your students?"  
"He gets the jokes from the students, Dad. Not the other way around. Trust me, what you've heard so far, is tame."

"They're not that bad." Charlie protested.

"Yes, they are." Don looked at Gareth. "I got treated to all kinds of bad jokes when I landed in the hospital with heat stroke."

"You laughed." Charlie said.

Don rolled his eyes. "I'm lucky he had to leave before he could go through all of them." He grinned at Charlie.

"See if I try to cheer you up next time." Charlie huffed.

Don got up from his chair and went over to Charlie, reaching down to tickle him. "Is that so?"  
Charlie leaped out of his chair and backed away from Don. "You stay away from me."

"What's a matter, Chuck? Afraid I'll catch ya'?"

"Don't call me Chuck."

Gareth watched the two brothers dance around each other and smiled. Boys are boys no matter where they are or how old they are. It was exactly the same with his sons.

"You need some help, Alan?" Gareth asked, craning his neck to see Alan behind the grill.

"Nope. You just stay where you are. I've got plenty of help." He cast a look around for his sons.

A yelp came from the other side of the yard.

"Don, put your brother down." Alan said, without looking up.

Gareth stood and joined Alan at the grill. "I've never been good sitting still. Give me something to do. Besides, I think your help is otherwise occupied."

There was another yelp.

Alan shook his head. "You can put the plates on the table if you wouldn't mind." He pointed at a stack of plates.

"No problem." Gareth said, picking up the plates.

Oh, yes, Colby was damn lucky in more ways than one.


End file.
